Stretch Marks
by LadyJirachi
Summary: She's past her prime. She's had a child. She's hardly young and beautiful anymore. Her little daughter's elegant doctor begs to differ, however. AU. Older!Kyoko. Younger!Ren.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Reposted.

* * *

 _:Chapter 1:_

"Dr. Tsuruga will see you now."

Kyoko nodded at the nurse, then turned to her eight-year-old daughter, who hopped off the bench happily.

"Let's go, Mummy!" Maria cried, jumping excitedly, ponytail jumping. "We can see Dr. Tsuruga again!"

Kyoko laughed, rising from the bench as well and adjusting her handbag. Dressed in a simple tee and jeans, she felt comfortable and relaxed. She took her daughter's hand, and then guided her to the open door the nurse was holding for them. "Don't keep jumping like that. You might fall down, darling."

She entered the consultation room, Maria scampering eagerly next to her. The nurse shut the door softly.

The tall, young doctor sat by his desk, a small smile playing around his perfect lips.

Kyoko always wondered what on earth blessed her the opportunity of having such a gorgeous male creature treat Maria. She had, after all, never in her life seen a man as attractive as Dr. Tsuruga Ren.

The high, exquisitely carved cheekbones. The sculpted lips, curved in a small, wry smile. The straight, aristocratic nose. The dark, obsidian eyes, gleaming beneath a heavy row of long, sooty lashes (completely wasted on a man! God, if she had lashes like that, she'd never wear mascara again), casting exotic shadows across his smooth, golden skin. His slightly overlong dark hair, slicked back in glossy waves on his head. The man looked expensive.

Just like the rest of the doctors in the hospital, he donned a white overcoat, and a stethoscope was curled around his slender neck. Kyoko knew that, other than a pediatrician, he was also a thoracic surgeon. The fact that he specialized in two different areas of medicine always fascinated her; why would a surgeon bother himself with simple consultation every now and then when he belonged to the operating theater? She understood that the pediatric side of his job was more or less regular patient consultation when he was not busy operating on other patients who were both adults and children.

"Dr. Tsuruga!" Maria shrieked delightfully, throwing herself straight into his arms. "Mummy and I are here for the follow-up from last month!"

"Maria!" Kyoko scolded, feeling slightly embarrassed. "Get off the doctor at once!"

Dr. Tsuruga gently lowered the little girl back down onto her feet, and chuckled fondly, large hand patting her curls. His deep, rich voice reverberated lushly in the air. "I am very happy to see Maria too."

Maria beamed in pleasure.

"I am so sorry," Kyoko apologized fervently to him. "You know how she is. She simply adores you."

Her breath caught in her throat as dark, piercing eyes flickered upwards and met hers intently.

"Ah," Tsuruga murmured. "Is that so?"

Kyoko could understand why Maria liked Ren so much; there was something very compelling and magnetizing about the man. She personally liked him as well. However, unlike Maria, Kyoko was also unsettled by him. He treated Maria kindly and gently, as any dedicated doctor would, but when he regarded Kyoko, it was rather different. Oh, the kindness and gentleness were still there, but—and she wasn't sure if it was just her imagination—there was a smothering quality in his onyx eyes as he gazed at her that made her feel cornered and flustered. It reminded her of the way a predator watched its prey.

Kyoko always told herself that she was thinking too much. She was being oversensitive is all. His powerful presence intimidated her, as it should, since he was a man of high status and great authority, and that was it. To him, she was probably just the single mother of his patient—the absence of a ring on her finger was glaring—and someone he needed to put with whenever Maria came in for consultation. Maria wouldn't feel intimidated by Dr. Tsuruga; she was too young to grasp the gap in status between herself and him.

"How are you doing, Maria?" he inquired softly, turning from Kyoko and smiling at the girl.

"My eczema is a lot better!" she proclaimed proudly. "See?" She sat down on a chair opposite him, then stretched out her arms, letting him see the skin where the junction above her elbow was. It was slightly red, and the skin was rough and mildly scarred. "It's a lot better than before, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," Dr. Tsuruga remarked gently, fluidly sliding on a single latex glove over his adroit fingers, before lifting his gloved hand to elevate both her arms so that he could carefully examine them. "That is a marked improvement from before, Maria. I am very proud of you."

It was a great improvement, Kyoko thought. Before seeing Dr. Tsuruga, Maria's arms had been bleeding and swollen due to her persistently scratching her skin. Kyoko had been worried sick; she didn't quite grasp what eczema was, since she never suffered from it herself. The doctor had diagnosed Maria's condition, then prescribed Kyoko a bottle of moisturizing cream that would help cease the itch when applied on the inflamed area. The cream was miraculous. Maria stopped clawing at her wounds, and her torn skin had slowly healed over the span of a month, mending the scratches into puckered scars. It hurt Kyoko, though, seeing the initially soft skin of her daughter's arms roughen like that.

"Mummy applies the cream for me every night!" Maria said happily. "It doesn't itch anymore!"

Dr. Tsuruga tilted his dark head. "That is good to hear, Maria," he said evenly. "However, it would make me even happier to learn that Maria is growing to become an independent young woman."

"Independent?" Maria echoed curiously.

"You mentioned that your mother applies it for you every night," Tsuruga said gently, removing his latex glove with a sharp _snap_ , and then tossing it into the bin. "But Maria is a big girl now, am I right?"

Maria puffed up proudly. "Yes, I am!"

"So you have to be more considerate towards your mother, and try to be more independent," he continued softly, resting a long-fingered hand on her thick brown curls. "Would you like to try applying the cream yourself?"

Maria contemplated the question seriously, then nodded determinedly. She stuck out her lip, troubled. "I don't know how to, though."

Kyoko put her arm around her daughter's little shoulders. _She's so adorable!_

"It's alright, sweetie," she soothed. "You don't trouble Mummy at all when I apply it for you. Mummy loves doing it for you."

"Rather," Tsuruga's unruffled baritone voice intervened, "If Maria wishes to learn, we should let her."

For the first time since she knew Dr. Tsuruga, Kyoko felt a light streak of resentment towards him. Maria was only eight, so what was wrong with Kyoko applying it for her? Besides, Kyoko didn't see why Maria should have to suffer any more than she already had. Being the product of divorced parents was tough, and Kyoko wanted Maria to feel sheltered and loved even though her father was gone. She wanted Maria to know that, on the other hand, Kyoko, her mother, would always protect and take care of her. So what was wrong with applying some silly cream for Maria every night? It was just a small act of love from mother to child. It was far too early to speak of independence.

"I agree with Dr. Tsuruga!" Maria piped up eagerly, casting a look of pure worship at the man. "Maria wants to learn! I want to be more independent!"

"Now, sweetie," Kyoko chided. "You're still very young. There's no need to worry yourself with these things for now."

She stiffened as she felt amused dark eyes resting on her.

"Then when, Mogami-san," Dr. Tsuruga questioned calmly, "would be a good time to start worrying?"

Kyoko's stomach churned defensively. Was he challenging her? How dare he—what right did he have to tell her how to mother her child?

"When Maria is of the appropriate age," she answered stiffly.

"And what age is that?" Tsuruga Ren drawled, undeterred. "Twenty? Thirty? Sixty?"

God, she wanted to throttle him. He was crossing the line now, and she was pissed. Who did this know-it-all doctor think he was? He was supposed to take care of Maria's eczema, and that was as far as his duties extended to. He had no right to challenge her methods of mothering her child. He had no idea how fragmented a family Maria came from, and why Kyoko was thus so protective of her. Or maybe he did, since he could clearly see the lack of a ring on Kyoko's finger, and that a father never appeared in earlier medical appointments. If so, couldn't he be more understanding that Maria didn't have a paternal figure, and therefore needed more care from the only parent she had left? Why talk about independence now?

"Don't be ridiculous," Kyoko snapped. "Dr. Tsuruga, I think you're going a little overboard."

To her fury, he ignored her, and instead asked Maria for the bottle of moisturizing cream. The little girl nodded vigorously, then reached into Kyoko's handbag for the bottle, to which her mother brushed her hands softly aside and tugged out the bottle herself.

Her teeth gritted, Kyoko placed the bottle with more force than was necessary on his desk. Deciding to ignore everything he said earlier, she said, briskly, "I would be grateful, Dr. Tsuruga, if you could prescribe another bottle for her. The first bottle is beginning to run low on cream."

"Yes, of course," he answered graciously, keeping his words brief as well. She tensed when he turned away to face Maria, picking the bottle up.

Kyoko fumed silently as the doctor began to instruct Maria how to unscrew the cap of the bottle, and then on how to apply the cream by herself. Maria was excited to learn, and after confirming to the doctor that she had washed her hands a few minutes prior to the consultation, she followed his instructions enthusiastically, letting smidges of the white cream drip onto her fingers from the open bottle and then smearing it onto her wounded arm.

"Remember, you must always wash your hands before you apply the cream," Tsuruga Ren informed her tranquilly. "You do not want an infection, do you?"

Maria shook her head vigorously. "No, Dr. Tsuruga!"

He smiled approvingly. "Well done."

She flushed happily.

"Alright, then," Kyoko said hastily, keeping the bottle and screwing it shut. She slid it back into her handbag. "We ought to get going now."

Maria looked crestfallen. "Already?"

"Yes," Kyoko said firmly. "We have intruded enough of Dr. Tsuruga's time."

"Not at all," the doctor murmured, typing away on the keyboard, no doubt working on the prescription form. His spidery, long fingers caught her attention, and she couldn't help but stare at the nimbleness of his movements.

A few quiet minutes passed. Kyoko hastily tore her mesmerized gaze away from his long, graceful fingers (what was wrong with her? The doctor was proving to be nothing but trouble, and she was admiring him?!), and looked up, only to flinch when she found he was watching her as well, smoky obsidian eyes boring into her hazel ones.

His elegant hands had stilled over the keyboard. Was he…done with the prescription form?

As she froze like a deer in headlights, his dark eyes lowered, dipping boldly over the swell of her breasts under the tee and further down to the curves of her small body. His open scrutiny made her tremble. He wasn't even trying to hide it!

"Mummy, do you want a consultation, too?" Maria asked, oblivious to the tension in the consultation room. "If you're feeling sick, you can talk to Dr. Tsuruga!"

"Sweetie," Kyoko reprimanded, "Don't be silly. Mummy is perfectly fine."

"Are you?"

The unexpected rejoinder sent her gaping as she stared at Tsuruga Ren's unreadable mien. The printer churned, the prescription form rolling out.

"Well, of course, I am," Kyoko said testily. "Besides, I am here for Maria, not for me—"

"You have lost some weight from the last time I saw you," Dr. Tsuruga observed bluntly, onyx eyes gleaming brightly.

Kyoko blinked in surprise. He had noticed…but how could he? This was strange. The man treated vast numbers of patients each day, and the last time he'd seen her—with Maria—was a month ago. How could he remember how she looked like when he had seen a month's worth of patients (probably hundreds of other different people) since then? Unless he had a photographic memory, which she wouldn't put it past him. She didn't realise that her weight loss was so apparent in her appearance, however. While she hadn't been fat before—far from it—she had shed a few kilos throughout the past month. She went from slim to slimmer.

She had been unable to sleep lately. Kyoko wasn't sure why. There was nothing wrong in her life; she had beautiful, wonderful Maria, the centre of her universe, who was doing well in school, and Kyoko herself was working in an average but financially satisfying job. All was well. All was secure. She was content. Yet when she lay in bed each night, something hollow and cold welled up in her chest, rendering her sleepless. She felt empty.

She felt lonely.

It was ridiculous. She had friends. Her colleagues at the office were fun and enjoyable to work with. She had her daughter, who constantly sent her heart alit with joy. She was not alone. The people—few but stable as they were—in her life made her happy.

Why on earth did she feel alone then?

"Mummy, you were groaning in pain last night!" Maria said suddenly. "I heard you!"

Kyoko's eyes widened, puzzled. "What are you talking about, sweetie? Weren't you asleep?"

"I woke up in the middle of the night," Maria replied guilelessly. "I heard you moaning in your bed last night, Mummy! I tried to go into your room, but the door was locked! You don't usually lock it. Were you sick, Mummy? You were moaning really loudly!"

And then it suddenly struck Kyoko what Maria was talking about; the exact memory of what transpired last night when she was alone in bed, and the outline of a certain vibrator accompanying it, flooded back to her head. The blow of Maria's words sent her reeling with mortification and horror. The urge to find a hole to bury herself in intensified exponentially, and it took every bit of her willpower not to run right out of the room.

 _Oh my God. Don't look at Tsuruga Ren. Don't look at him._

Aware that her cheeks were burning, Kyoko grabbed her daughter's small hand.

"Let's go, sweetie," she said rapidly, making sure that she avoided so much as a glimpse of Tsuruga Ren.

"But, Mummy!" Maria urged concernedly. The poor, sweet, innocent girl. "Do you want to consult Dr. Tsuruga about your pain last night? Maybe he can help you with it."

 _Nooo!_

Yet, despite her embarrassed humiliation, the possible images of such a beautiful man like Tsuruga Ren _helping_ her with her issue last night—his muscled body entwined with her smaller one in bed—swam uncontrollably into her mind, making her slightly dizzy with the sudden liquid heat trickling into her loins.

Oh, God. She was fantasizing about him. In front of him.

She needed to leave. Now.

Practically dragging a confused Maria with her, Kyoko headed to the door.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

She faltered at the sound of the deep, velvety baritone murmur, halting her in her tracks.

He definitely knew. Any adult with half a brain could figure out the truth behind what Maria had been talking about, let alone an erudite creature like him.

"Y-yes?" Kyoko asked, her throat dry. She turned her head reluctantly in his direction.

 _Don't look at him. Don't look at him._

She looked.

Shockingly, there was no trace of laughter or amusement in his expression, as she had thought there would be. Instead, his already dark eyes had completely blackened with a brewing emotion she couldn't decipher, so that she could barely tell his pupils and irises apart. She felt a surge of hot arousal rush through her nether region—beneath the confining denim of her jeans—at the unmistakably predatory way his sculpted lips curved upwards.

The conflicting urge to flee and stay at the same time caused her belly to clench.

"Your prescription form, Mogami-san," he enunciated smoothly, sliding the paper across his desk.

Maria, still oblivious to the simmering sexual tension looming in the air, hopped over and picked the paper up, her curly ponytail bouncing. "Thank you, Dr. Tsuruga!"

Kyoko spun back to the door, and turned the doorknob, fingers white and shaky.

"Oh, and Maria," Tsuruga added silkily. "Can you do a favour for me?"

"Yes, Dr. Tsuruga! Of course!" Maria sounded flattered and eager to please.

"Inform your mother, Maria, that she can, if she wishes, consult me about her…ailment last night."

Oh, fuck. Kyoko opened the door, stepping out of the room hurriedly.

Not before she heard his last words, of course.

"Alone."

* * *

"I like Dr. Tsuruga," Maria sang cheerily, biting into her bowl of beans, tofu, beef, and rice.

Kyoko groaned again, rubbing her temples, her elbows propped on the table.

The pair was seated in the hospital cafeteria, having their lunch. As it was a few hours past lunch time, the crowd had tapered off. Surrounding them were a few other patients—some of them wheel-bound—having their meals, while others included medical personnel like nurses and a few clinic assistants. Kyoko figured that their late work shifts were why they had to eat lunch at a later time than was the norm. It wasn't easy, she thought, working in the hospital. Their life was consumed by their long, seemingly never ending working hours. They were so busy catering to others that they had little time to cater to themselves.

Was it the same for Tsuruga Ren too?

She shook her head, banishing him from her mind. The truth was, Kyoko was rather ashamed of herself for possessing such unchaste thoughts about her daughter's doctor. She was a modest, young mother—and proper mothers did not go around getting all hot and bothered just because they came across an attractive man! Especially not an attractive man who was their child's doctor, god forbid!

Mothers had to focus on their children. That was it. Whatever fairy tale that was supposed to come for her was gone. She was past that age already; goodness, she was already in her mid-thirties. Young women who had yet to have children readied themselves for romance, and as for her, it was too late. She already had her daughter. A child signified the end—and romance was the means to said end. That opportunity of a romance had come and gone in the form of her divorced ex-husband. For the rest of her life, she would have to live without her fairy tale now that she had achieved her end.

What would a far younger, virile man like Tsuruga Ren—in his mid-twenties—see in her, a divorced mother with faint stretch marks over her belly? Not that he could see them, but still.

"I wish Dr. Tsuruga could be my new dad since I rarely see Daddy anymore," Maria said sadly.

"Maria!" Kyoko slammed her hand on the table. "Don't talk nonsense!"

Maria winced and jumped in her chair. The other occupants of the cafeteria glanced at them briefly, startled by the noise. Seeing nothing of interest, they went back to their food, gossiping about whatever topics they had been pursuing earlier.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," Kyoko said contritely. She instantly regretted her momentary loss of composure. "Will you forgive Mummy?"

Maria nodded timidly. "I'm not angry. I'm just...I don't know. You seem to be scared of Dr. Tsuruga, and I don't know why. He's so nice."

Kyoko hated to admit it, but Maria was right. She was scared of the doctor, and even more so when it came to the forbidden desires gathering in her abdomen every time she thought of him.

"Sweetie." Kyoko rested her hand on Maria's. "Listen. I know you like Dr. Tsuruga, but you can't just go around labelling people as your father. These things are…delicate."

Maria nodded again, large eyes pools of melancholy.

"But it's okay, right?" Kyoko said softly. "Even if Daddy isn't around anymore, you're okay with just having me, right?"

"Of course, Mummy," Maria said at once, looking solemn and slightly aggrieved. "You're more than enough. I don't care about Daddy! I won't ever forgive him! I just like Dr. Tsuruga, that's all."

Kyoko sighed. "You're going to see a lot of people you like, Maria. But you can't always cling to them."

"Why not?" Maria's innocent eyes stared at her.

Kyoko pressed her lips tightly. "Sweetie, just because you feel this way doesn't mean they do too. Think about Daddy. You want to cling to him too, don't you? But he left."

Maria lowered her face, her cherubic features crestfallen. "Dr. Tsuruga won't stop treating me and leave, right?"

"No, sweetie, he won't," Kyoko consoled her. "I didn't mean it that way. He will continue to treat you, because that's his job. But don't bother him with other things aside from your health, okay?"

"If he can't be my dad, I want him to at least be my friend," Maria replied morosely, nose twitching stubbornly.

Kyoko sighed exasperatedly. "Honestly. That's enough, Maria."

"But he's amazing, Mummy!"

"He's all you ever talk about these days. What's so great about him, really?"

Maria brightened. "He's so pretty, Mummy! Have you seen his eyelashes? They're so long!" She pointed at her own brown eyes, as if to emphasize her point. "And he's big and tall and super kind! Doesn't Mummy like it too?"

Kyoko flushed, her pale skin coloring. "No. I don't. I think he's pretty annoying and a huge know-it-all."

Maria's mouth opened in outrage. "Mummy! How can you say that? Dr. Tsuruga has been nothing but nice to us!"

"I don't like him."

"But he's so nice to you! He offered to treat you just now! In fact, I think you should go consult him! He said you could go find him alone, right?"

Kyoko's flush intensified; she probably resembled a tomato from how much she was blushing. It was thank goodness that Maria didn't understand the double entendre—the sinful suggestion—in Tsuruga Ren's parting words. "I would rather face the demons from hell than see that big-headed jerk alone."

"And I," a deep voice spoke amusedly behind her, "am quite hurt."

Kyoko turned as rigid as stone.

"Dr. Tsuruga!" Maria shrieked in glee. Clearly all of Kyoko's warnings just a few minutes before had disappeared off her mind the moment she saw Tsuruga Ren.

Kyoko's head jerked as she took in the sight of the surgeon. Dressed in his usual white doctor's overcoat, she realised she could see the black turtleneck sweater and long, skin-tight pants he wore underneath. His stethoscope was tucked neatly within the massive breast pocket of his overcoat. He truly was an incredible masculine specimen; his tall, panther-like presence seemed to fill the cafeteria just by his standing there alone. All the women sitting around—especially the nurses—recognised him, their faces lit up with female appreciation. It wasn't just Maria who looked as if they were about to have a seizure from an overdose of ecstasy upon seeing him.

Nodding warmly and smiling at the other females as they simpered his name, he lowered himself gracefully onto a vacant chair beside Kyoko, putting down a tray of food on the table as he did so. She could see a few plates resting on the tray.

"I hope you don't mind if I sit here," he said courteously.

"Not at all!" Maria shouted jubilantly, ignoring the angry stare that her mother sent her way. "We don't mind at all!"

"Why even ask, when you already sat down?" Kyoko muttered under her breath.

"Ah," Ren countered serenely, "but I never asked."

She winced in embarrassment. He had heard her!

"We were just talking about you, Dr. Tsuruga!" Maria chattered, still ignoring Kyoko's deadly stare. "Mummy doesn't like you very much! I'm trying to make her like you, Dr. Tsuruga!"

 _Oh, god. Give me a hole to crawl into now. Please._

The surgeon laughed huskily. "How unfortunate," he commented simply but amusedly.

"Maria, stop talking nonsense," Kyoko barked, brushing aside a stray lock of copper hair from her reddened face. "I don't dislike Dr. Tsuruga. I'm very grateful for what he has done to take care of you."

"But you just said you didn't like—"

"Maria!" Kyoko repeated forcefully, her pale cheeks on fire. "Enough."

Maria sulked, but kept silent.

Kyoko jumped in her chair when a large hand descended and the back of his dexterous fingers gently skimmed her fiery cheeks. His soft, fleeting touch was gone before she could so much as draw away, however, and the heat in her fine features only went up.

"Dr. Tsuruga," she hissed, pulse racing madly, "What are you doing?"

To her indignation, he ignored her, and addressed Maria instead.

"I think your mother is very pretty when she is worked up," he noted casually. "Don't you agree, Maria?"

"I think Mummy is pretty all the time!" Maria beamed.

Ren flashed white, ivory teeth. "Hmm. I agree. Now we know where Maria gets her prettiness from, don't we?"

Maria turned pink, and she appeared extremely flattered and pleased.

"Maria, stop wasting time, and quickly eat," Kyoko said, fisting her trembling hands on her lap. "We need to go soon."

Tsuruga said nothing, but picked up a plate of food—chicken and rice—from his tray and placed it before her.

She stared bemusedly. "What…?"

"I noticed you didn't eat anything," he said quietly. "The problem with you, Mogami-san, is that your life revolves too much around your daughter, and too little around yourself."

She gave him a withering look. "That's not true."

Ignoring her (again!), his obsidian eyes flickered towards the little girl opposite them. "Maria. Did you notice that your mother hasn't been eating?"

"Mummy doesn't eat often," she answered gravely, poking her tofu in her bowl. Kyoko shot her a level stare, warning her to stop, but it was like her daughter had been replaced with a complete rebel. "She always buys meals for Maria, but doesn't eat any herself. She skips meals a lot. She says grown-ups like her don't need nutrition like I do."

Kyoko stilled uncomfortably as his midnight eyes, hooded by thick lashes, narrowed into disapproving slits and shrewdly observed her. It was like he could read her thoughts just from watching her features. She felt exposed and vulnerable.

"Your mother is wrong, Maria," he said coolly. "Grown-ups and children all need nutrition. If your mother doesn't eat, then it's a problem. In fact, she's misbehaving by skipping her meals. It is a very naughty thing to do."

Maria said earnestly, "Then Mummy ought to be punished!"

"Yes," Dr. Tsuruga murmured, scorching dark eyes still surveying her face with an intensity that both thrilled and scared her. "How do you say I should punish your mother, Maria?"

Maria thought hard. "The naughty kids in my class all get spanked when they're punished!"

"Yes," Tsuruga answered quietly. She stiffened as he curled his large hand over the taut outline of her tiny, fisted hand on her lap. His hand, slender and graceful, was so big that it completely enveloped her own. "I think I ought to turn her over my knee and spank her, shouldn't I?"

A pool of molten heat began to simmer in her womb. She swallowed.

"But punishment is awful," Maria said sadly, digging her spoon at her rice. "I don't want Mummy to get hurt!"

"Oh, I wouldn't know," Dr. Tsuruga uttered nonchalantly, deep voice smooth and silky. His fingers dug firmly—though not painfully—into the gaps between her own little ones, his powerful strength forcing her to unfurl the fist she was making under the table, so that his calloused fingers slipped in and entwined with hers. Maria, sitting opposite, remained oblivious to the tug of war beneath the table. "I think your mother might enjoy it."

That was enough.

Kyoko's back jolted upwards against the back of her chair, struggling to keep her pounding heart at bay. "Let's go, Maria."

Her daughter appeared dismayed. "But I haven't finished—"

"I said let's go." Her voice was as cold as steel.

He released her hand, smiling coyly. It shocked her that she was a mere victim against his wicked strength—she had been unable to fight back, not even for a second. The problem was that she didn't seem to want to; the absence of his alluring contact made her feel empty all over again.

Kyoko could feel a tiny scrap of what felt like paper in her palm. He had placed it inside her fist under the table. Without looking at it, she dropped it into her handbag, then picked up Maria's protesting hand, and stalked out of the cafeteria, ignoring the stares she had attracted all around her.

She could hear his masculine laughter ringing in her ears the whole time.

It took her several hours to resist looking at the paper after she got home. When she did, her pulse thundering erratically, she was not disappointed.

No words, just a string of numbers.

His phone number.

* * *

 _:tbc:_


	2. Chapter 2

_:Chapter 2:_

She didn't call him.

Oh, Kyoko had been tempted. Her first instinct upon finding the piece of paper—with his number on it—was to pull out her smartphone and start dialing. See more of that devious, dark-haired, brilliant masculine specimen? God, she wanted to. His intoxicating presence, or just the mere thought of it, made her heart speed up and her head slightly giddy with excitement and thrill. It was a fresh change. For a while now, her daily life had dwindled into a monotonous dull even after she had conceived Maria, who was the center and joy of her universe. Kyoko felt awful that having Maria was not enough to satiate the increasingly lonely ache in her chest. She was immensely guilty towards her child. What kind of mother pined for a distraction when she already had such an amazing daughter to spend her time and life with? Maria had already lost a father, so shouldn't her mother focus entirely on making sure Maria was happy rather than getting all hot and bothered over another man?

Yet she couldn't help it.

It seemed Dr. Tsuruga was interested in her, too. Handing her his phone number was a clear indication. He wanted her to call him, and not, she knew, because he wanted to talk to her outside of work about Maria's condition. She highly doubted that. He was making it quite apparent that he wanted to pursue something with her; something that was irrelevant to Maria, and revolved around Kyoko alone. Never mind that Kyoko was a mother, and was hence no longer as attractive as other women. Childbirth had left its marks on her body; faint stretch marks lay across her otherwise almost flat belly (thanks to her weight loss, although a persistent mild sagginess remained, much to her chagrin), along with a light, almost invisible caesarean scar stretched right above the dark thatch of her pubic curls. She was no longer unblemished and taut like most younger women, not to mention her countenance—tired and worn out by her hardships—lacked glamor and radiance. What the hell did he see in her?

She was, if she was not wrong, around ten years older than Tsuruga Ren. It was just a guess, since he appeared in his mid-twenties and she was already thirty-seven. The age gap horrified her every time she thought of it. Was Tsuruga Ren messing with her? Her ex-husband had already proved that men liked their women young, feminine, and pert. Tsuruga Ren would clearly be at the disadvantage if he dated her. Why not get a fresh, ripe cherry instead? Why her, an aged, worn-out tire? It wasn't as if he had a lack of women to pick from, not when she thought back to the nurses and their appreciative expressions upon seeing him in the cafeteria that day. If he was trying to fool around with her, it couldn't be because he was solely interested in her, could it? There had to be some other motivation.

Money? She highly doubted it. If anything, things would be the other way around. As a call officer working in the administrative office of an academic enrichment programme for children, her earnings were meagre. There was enough to get by and to support Maria, but she wasn't, by any standards, rich. It wasn't as if she got any alimony from her ex-husband, whose only monetary contribution at the moment was his payment of Maria's school bills. For Dr. Tsuruga, however, he worked as a thoracic surgeon. Kyoko knew his salary must be sky-high, as did most doctors and surgeons. And they deserved the higher pay too, seeing as they saved lives on a daily basis. This meant he couldn't be interested in Kyoko because of her money, not when he had plenty of his own. So what else?

Her looks? Hah. Kyoko snorted. She wasn't even going to consider that.

Or maybe… he just wanted to get some, without any strings attached. It made sense, somehow. Most women—the younger ones—were looking for a man to spend the rest of their lives with. And why wouldn't they? They had just stepped into adulthood, and like all females, were biologically inclined to start a family and settle down. Hence they were searching for a partner whom they would expect commitment from. Kyoko, in the meanwhile, had already departed from a failed marriage and had delivered a child. She was done. Her fairy tale had ended, and she wasn't looking for a new chapter. Perhaps Dr. Tsuruga knew that she wasn't desperate for commitment like most younger women did. Just a few nights together in bed, and he could then go on his way without worrying about her desires to embark on a fairy tale with him.

The more Kyoko thought about it, the sadder she got. It was this horrid thought niggling at the back of her mind that kept her from calling, and from sleeping at night. Now and then an impulsive urge would rise and she would pick up her smartphone and start dialling—she had saved his number in her contacts—only to stop and sigh, then turn off her phone. She couldn't call him.

But what was she so upset about? It was true; she really wasn't looking for commitment right now. But at the same time, she was also not the type of carefree female who slept around like nobody's business. She hadn't, much to her growing depression, slept with anyone since her ex-husband. Why would anyone seek her as their bedmate? The only orgasms she'd achieved lately was from her little vibrator and dildo—carefully bound and wrapped in a package inside a hidden compartment under her bedstand where Maria would never get her hands on, god forbid—and possessing those toys made her feel guilty. But she needed them. They took the edge off her stress; gave her a distraction.

That was what Tsuruga Ren was to her, she thought firmly. A distraction. Like a sex toy.

But dammit, her sex toys didn't make her feel so excited. Thinking of Dr. Tsuruga made her blush and made goosebumps erupt from her skin. She wanted to run her hands through that silky dark hair—always slicked casually back his head in windswept waves—and softly trace the killer structure of his perfect face, across his long eyelashes, along his high cheekbones, and down to that defined jawline. She was curious to see what was hidden under that doctor's overcoat, to peel his clothing away from his tall, towering, catlike build. The way he moved always reminded her of a large feline; the way tigers prowled about in the forest, lazy, unruffled, but coiled with power at the top of the food chain.

Fuck. These images kept returning to Kyoko's mind, rendering her painfully aroused and yet at the same extremely guilty.

She was a horrible mother.

Due to her apprehension that day in the cafeteria, she had chosen to flee from the hospital with Maria tightly in hand. She had been in such a hurry that she hadn't handed in the prescription form to the pharmacy. All she knew then was the overwhelming urge to escape his workplace, where he seemed to appear at the most unexpected of corners. The hospital was his kingdom, a place which he luxuriated atop its throne as one of the most talented and desired surgeons, both by patients and women alike. He wasn't even a senior surgeon due to his young age, but Kyoko knew he was labelled a prodigy in the medical field. She had read his profile up online at the hospital's webpage.

All Kyoko wanted was to flee from any place he might appear in, just like that day in the cafeteria.

This meant, though, that Kyoko needed to hand in the prescription form another day at the pharmacy (the validity date was up to a month), to buy the second bottle of cream for Maria.

She had chosen to go over to the hospital a week later where it was way before lunchtime, so as to make sure Dr. Tsuruga wouldn't be at the cafeteria, which was right next to the pharmacy. His shifts might be irregular, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to try to avoid bumping into him. Unfortunately for her, though, the waiting queue at the pharmacy was way longer than she had expected, and hours gradually ticked by into the noon. A disgruntled Kyoko had paid for the bottle of cream after what felt like forever, and then made her way to the automatic sliding doors of the pharmacy.

It was a good thing, Kyoko supposed, that the hospital wasn't far from her home. It was only a ten minutes' walk away, and it was located next to a mall too, where she often purchased her groceries from. It was a Sunday, hence she need not worry about work, and had left Maria at home. She was not too concerned that her daughter was alone; her eight-year-old was sensible despite her youth, and was not rambunctious like most boys her age. Kyoko had faith in her daughter that she wouldn't be up to mischief alone in their apartment. Time after time had proved so. Besides, Kyoko always made sure that Maria had her phone number, and that she could call her whenever any issue came up. It always made Kyoko proud that her daughter was such a mature girl.

Still, Kyoko didn't intend to waste any time. Get the cream, and then hurry back home.

Their apartment was a pretty average-sized place, but still comfortable. It was the same home Kyoko and her ex-husband had lived in together during their marriage. She had not moved out. Where was she to find the money to get a new house, anyway? Her husband, on the other hand, had left after their divorce and bought a large penthouse somewhere in Tokyo to move in with his new, younger wife. His income was far higher than hers, but then again, before their marriage, she had signed a pre-nup agreement in the event where she would get virtually nothing from him if they split. Kyoko hadn't even considered whether she might get divorced with him; she had been so in love at that time that she paid the agreement little attention. She had thought divorce was a laughable impossibility.

It was coming back to haunt her now.

Her footsteps faltered when two figures appeared into view. The both of them, she realised, were heading towards the cafeteria.

Dr. Tsuruga Ren, and another woman.

She was young, in her twenties, and appeared, she discovered with an apprehensive jolt, around the same age as him. The blonde woman, slender and visibly at the peak and sensuality of her youth, was dressed in a snug, lapel white dress that was a nurse's uniform. It was ridiculous how such a simple garment could look so good on her. She pressed her body closely alongside Ren's, simpering and giggling as she spoke. Kyoko could tell the pretty nurse was very interested in him.

The surgeon wore baby blue scrubs beneath his sweeping doctor's overcoat this time, his hands tucked absently into his pant pockets. She couldn't help but notice he made no move to resist the nurse's close proximity with him. The wind ruffled his thick black hair, lifting it in loose, glossy waves around his angular face. It was evident that he and the nurse were still working on a Sunday.

They hadn't noticed Kyoko yet.

Kyoko hastily slid herself behind a pillar so that she disappeared out of view before the pair. Her hands were trembling as she clutched the bottle of cream and the spare change of money from the cashier earlier.

What was she hiding for? Honestly! Kyoko was mortified with herself; she was acting like a fugitive.

Still, she didn't want Dr. Tsuruga to see her.

That woman beside him… Was she his lover? Or were they just colleagues going for a friendly meal together? Spotting them together sent a streak of hot jealousy into Kyoko's stomach; the impulsive urge to dash over and shove the nurse away from him rose tenfold. Her fingers tightened over the bottle of cream; she clenched her teeth. Kyoko wasn't a violent person by nature. She had never been in a physical fight before, not even when she met her husband's mistress for the first time. Kyoko had been unhappy and depressed throughout, but had displayed no antagonism towards his mistress. She would always get the short end of the stick when it came to violence anyway, due to her limited strength. She was ashamed of herself. What happened to her usually meek disposition? Why was she this angry right now?

Besides, it was none of her business even if he had a lover. If her theory was right—that Dr. Tsuruga was just using her to fool around without any strings attached—then it wouldn't be surprising if he had a lover on the sidelines. Men liked to keep several commodities with them in one go. The nurse was just one of many women in his life, she was certain.

And they were definitely young, perky women, whose bodies were not scarred by motherhood and were in top-shape.

Kyoko's fingers lurched weakly at the thought, and a coin from her change spilled from her grip. It landed on the ground with a noisy metallic clink, and rolled rapidly away from her.

Cursing under her breath, the petite woman tucked the bottle of cream under her arm, dropped the rest of the coins into her handbag, and scrambled forward, hand outstretched for the rolling coin.

The coin continued rolling and skidding away from her on the cement ground, and she bent down into a squat, desperate to grab hold of it before it went too far.

A dark loafer shoe stepped fluidly over the coin, trapping it neatly underneath.

"My coin—" Kyoko tilted her head upwards in a mixture of indignation and relief at the captor. "Excuse me, that's my—"

Piercing, familiar dark eyes bored into her large brown ones.

She froze.

A second ticked by.

The female contemplated fleeing, but decided it was too cowardly even for her standards. She knew she had to face said captor again sooner or later when Maria returned for her next medical appointment, and if she ran now, the awkwardness of seeing him a second time then would be tremendous.

"You," Tsuruga Ren murmured, "have a lot of explaining to do."

What did he mean?

Kyoko swallowed again. She glanced to her right, and saw that the pretty nurse accompanying him was now standing some distance away, watching them curiously. The doctor must have told her to stay put there. The sight of the other woman elicited another unwanted streak of jealousy in her chest, much to her dismay. Kyoko stilled at the emotion, and rapidly looked away from the nurse, leaving her with the remaining option to reluctantly face Dr. Tsuruga once more. Her mouth and throat suddenly felt unbearably parched. She licked her dry lips, her pulse quaking.

His obsidian eyes, framed by long lashes, soundlessly followed the movement of her little, pink tongue.

Kyoko's cheeks burned, and she hastily ceased her movements, pursing her lips together instead.

"Firstly, I would like to know something," Dr. Tsuruga uttered evenly, looking down at her from where she was crouched on the ground. He was so intimidatingly tall that he already towered over her when she was standing, let alone when she was now crouched—literally—at his feet. "What are you doing here in the hospital? Maria's follow-up is not until next month."

Was she imagining it, or was there quiet concern in his voice? What was he concerned about? Kyoko didn't get it. He knew Maria's condition wasn't that serious, after all. Still, seeing Kyoko in the hospital when Maria didn't have an appointment must have startled him. Was he concerned that Kyoko was here because Maria might have suddenly been sent to the emergency room due to an unexpected situation arising from her health, since her follow-up appointment, as he said, was still far off from now? She supposed that was it.

Well. No one could say he wasn't a dedicated doctor.

"Quit worrying," Kyoko said tiredly, lifting the bottle she had tucked under her arm, and showing it to him. "I was just collecting the cream you prescribed last week. Maria's okay."

His dark brows arched, and she was taken aback that he appeared exasperated and amused at the same time. "Maria? Is that who you think I am worried about?"

Kyoko glared at him. It sounded as if he was laughing at her, and she hated it.

"Let go of my coin," she snapped instead. The girl considered tugging at the long, graceful leg of his—clad in the baby blue pants of his scrubs—to get his foot off her coin, but faltered at the notion.

Kyoko squeaked when he lowered himself lazily—almost like a large, powerful jungle cat settling down—so that he was bent next to her on the ground, his arm resting on his knee. She gulped, and backed away slightly, not wanting to crouch so near to him. His proximity was disconcerting, especially at how close-up she could see every strand of his silky dark hair, the smooth skin, and long lashes.

"You didn't call," he said simply, deep baritone voice husky and soft.

Kyoko quivered. "I—I…" She shook her head desperately, and blurted out her reply without thinking. "I'm a mother."

"Considering that I treat your daughter," Dr. Tsuruga answered mockingly, "I noticed."

"Then you know," Kyoko said quickly, "how inappropriate this is. I'm a mother, and you're my daughter's doctor. We can't—can't do whatever this is that's going on between us."

"Inappropriate?" Tsuruga Ren chuckled. "It is curious, how you use that term." He lifted a long-fingered hand and softly skimmed his digits across her disheveled copper locks. She was too mesmerized by the audible caress in his voice to resist, and was completely unprepared for his next words, spoken silkily and deliberately, and so quietly that only she could hear. "What I find truly inappropriate, if you must know, is when your eight-year-old daughter is in my consultation room, and all I can think of is how much I want to fuck you."

Kyoko flinched, shocked at how brutally straightforward he was—and in that still polite tone, as if he was just talking about the weather. Molten heat instantly gathered in between her legs, making the area confined within her panties tingle uncontrollably. The sensation was so overwhelming that she shifted her thighs unconsciously in a vain attempt to assuage the abrupt swelling of arousal in her loins.

His clever onyx eyes flickered downwards, catching her movement, and she stiffened, choking, as he intently studied the creamy sheen of pale skin peeping from under the hem of her short, purple, chiffon sundress, where her upper thighs were revealed.

"Do you know what else is inappropriate?" Dr. Tsuruga purred knowingly, still in the same hushed, even tone. "When you insist in addressing your daughter's doctor platonically, and yet deep inside you know that you do want him to fuck you."

Kyoko gasped. The liquid heat in her womb simmered, and she sank helplessly to the ground, her weakening legs giving away under her. The plastic, unopened bottle of moisturizing cream fell from her grip, but long, dexterous fingers reached out and deftly caught it.

Never mind that they were in a hospital and a public place. Never mind people could see a strange woman collapsing right outside the pharmacy, where a doctor knelt before her.

Never mind all that.

"This can't work," she said faintly. "We're different, you and I."

He gently took her small hand, his fingers entwining unapologetically with hers, before placing the bottle on her palm.

"Yes, of course we are different," Dr. Tsuruga murmured. "I am a man and you are a woman. Is that not all there is to it? You are the one preoccupied by other circumstances."

"How old are you?" Kyoko forced out. "You're so much younger than me. I need to know this. How old are you?"

The corner of his sculpted lips quirked. He let go of her hand, and startled by his sudden withdrawal, she tightly gripped the bottle of cream to make sure it didn't drop again. Her pulse quickened and a strangled sound tore from her throat when his large, adroit hand descended gracefully over the soft length of her tiny, bare thigh, right at the hem of her sundress. She was stunned that his hand—the masculine slant of hard knuckles and fingers—rested effortlessly over the full width of her diminutive thigh.

His touch seemed to burn straight through her sensitive skin.

"I don't think _this_ part of you," Dr. Tsuruga said candidly, elegant, long fingers probing just under the chiffon hem so that they barely touched where her panties—slightly damp with her arousal—began, "cares very much about my age, or that I am your daughter's doctor."

Her entire face—small and heart-shaped—turned a fiery red.

"Dr. Tsuruga!"

Kyoko instantly jerked away from his touch, scrambling to her feet and straightening herself up. She hastily stuffed the bottle of cream into her handbag, and ran a hand over her purple skirt, smoothing the creases.

The pretty blonde nurse stalked over and approached them, looking annoyed but also very curious.

"What's going on, Dr. Tsuruga?" she demanded impulsively, glancing sourly at Kyoko. "You said you needed to talk to her just for a bit, but you're taking so long. Are you attending to a patient? Who is this old lady?"

 _Old lady._

Kyoko's head jolted as if the nurse had slapped her. She gasped.

Dr. Tsuruga rose to his feet promptly and regarded the nurse with a sharp, dangerous glance.

"Manaka-san," he rebuked levelly, blackened eyes flashing. "Please watch what you say."

The nurse called Manaka looked shocked. Her mouth fell open, and she sputtered indignantly. "But Dr. Tsuruga," she whined, pouting petal lips. "What did I say that was wrong?"

"Nothing," Kyoko said quietly. The older woman's walls, which had begun to crumble earlier from Tsuruga Ren's skilful coaxing, were now firmly back in place, locking around her protectively like a shield and keeping her vulnerabilities in check. The young nurse—whose words had served as a wake-up call, hence the resurrection of Kyoko's walls—turned to look at her, blue eyes widening. "You didn't say anything wrong."

She smiled weakly at the tall, male surgeon, whose countenance was now unreadable. The thin, perfect lips, which had been curved in a wickedly satisfied smile just earlier, were now pressed together in a taut line.

It was the first time she ever saw such displeasure in his face, or at least, from what little she could read.

"Thank you for your care today, Dr. Tsuruga," Kyoko added. "I have to go now."

"Not yet, Mogami-san."

She fought to keep her face as neutral as his. "I really have to go—"

"Oh?" He unfurled his slender fingers, revealing the coin in his hand.

Her coin.

It was the one that had fallen under his foot. He must had retrieved it.

Kyoko stared at it for a long second. She knew that the coin he was offering represented far more than what it simply appeared to at the moment. He wasn't just asking her to take her money back.

He was asking for something else as well.

She couldn't do it. Now that her walls were back up, she couldn't allow them to fall apart again.

"It's alright," she said at last, her voice hoarse. "Keep it, if you like. I don't need it."

"Mogami-san." His dark smoky eyes met her hazel ones intently.

She was suddenly hit by an invisible wave of seductive male charisma so compelling she could unconsciously feel her feet propelling a step forward. The liquid dark of his eyes were like a hypnotic siren, luring her to accept him.

"I rather think you do need it," Tsuruga Ren enunciated sleekly. "Come and take it."

Kyoko took another step forward, her legs shaky. God. She couldn't refuse him, not with that spellbinding presence he emanated. The pupils of his eyes seemed to have narrowed into exotic, ebony slits, like a cat's. She wondered if she was imagining it.

And then her doe brown eyes darted to the side, and she saw the nurse called Manaka again.

Young, beautiful, and feminine.

 _Young._

Kyoko stopped, clenching her small fists at her side.

"I have to go," she said raggedly, making sure she avoided looking at him. The last thing she wanted was to see his reaction, or to fall under his spell again. "I'm sorry."

With that, the petite woman turned, and ran.

* * *

Kyoko fished out her key from her handbag, sighing.

Her fingers tightened over her key. She had made up her mind.

She wasn't going to allow herself to see Dr. Tsuruga again. By the time it was Maria's next appointment the following month, she would ask her best friend Kanae to go see him in her stead. Or if Kanae couldn't make it, she would pay a babysitter to bring Maria to the hospital. Yes, it was rather extreme and drastic of her (not to mention cowardly), but she had to do it. If she saw him again, who knew what else could happen? The last thing she wanted was to fall prey to him again. Kyoko was starting to realise just how defenseless she was around Dr. Tsuruga; she was unable to fight off his persuasion and manipulations. Shit. She wanted him. She craved him, and she knew it.

A part of her was tempted to request the hospital to change a doctor for Maria, but she knew better than to do that. Her daughter adored Dr. Tsuruga, and there was no denying he was a tremendously skilled and dedicated doctor, albeit also dangerous in Kyoko's eyes. Even if Kyoko was personally prejudiced towards him, she still wanted Maria to receive the best.

She had promised Maria that Dr. Tsuruga would not stop treating her and leave. Kyoko couldn't break that promise.

She unlocked the door of her apartment, pushed it open, and froze.

A dark-haired man, accompanied by a tall woman, stood close to Maria within the living room. He was handing the eight-year-old a lollipop, to which she accepted with delight.

Maria's head turned and she gasped when she saw Kyoko. Her large eyes widened, and Kyoko instantly caught sight of the guilt in her expression. Her tiny, chubby fingers fisted the silk of her doll-like frock anxiously, and she hid the lollipop behind the fabric.

Kouki Takarada, dressed smartly in a black tuxedo, turned as well, and he looked boredly at Kyoko.

"Oh, if it isn't you," he said. "Welcome back."

The woman next to him folded her arms. Her red lips were tilted derisively, and she wore an equally crimson cocktail dress that fit her generous curves snugly. Her long, golden hair cascaded behind her in thick waves.

Lina Takarada. That was her name. A large ruby ring gleamed from her finger. She was also Kouki's current wife, and was around twenty-six years old.

She was more than ten years younger than Kouki.

"What are you two doing here?" Kyoko demanded, her voice shaking.

"My husband," Lina replied, smiling, "is here to see his daughter."

A long time ago, Mogami Kyoko had once been Takarada Kyoko. She had been happily married, and she was a content wife—someone confident with her sexuality and her identity as a woman. However, her confidence did not last, and it swiftly dissipated as she entered her thirties. Not too long after Maria was born, her husband left them both for a younger woman. He did not even fight for custody over Maria. It was at that time when Kyoko learnt a valuable lesson, which he so kindly educated her: that a woman, as per his exact words, loses her value when she becomes old and washed-out. Once she hits a certain age, there is no such thing as 'sexy' and 'desirable' of which to describe her. A man like him, of such high status and power, could not stay in what he thought was an unprofitable marriage. He had a reputation in the business world to uphold. What would people say if they knew his wife was no longer young and beautiful?

A man's age did not matter. What was most important was that power remained throughout their grasp. And a woman's value helped build that power when she was by his side. If she was old, then her diminished value would only serve as a liability to said power.

Kouki Takarada did not believe in keeping liabilities in his life.

Kyoko wasn't surprised about how Kouki got into the house. Maria, owning an extra copy of the key at home, must have let him in. He did not come see Maria often (Kyoko never went to see him voluntarily again since their divorce, so whenever she met him, it was because he visited), and his visits were sporadic at best. He could come to their apartment only once a year, or he could come for a few times a month. No one knew what to expect, and Kyoko hated it. He was often travelling aboard on his business trips, even back during the brief time of their short marriage. While Kyoko did not welcome him anymore, she knew that deep inside, Maria longed to see her father. Maria always pretended otherwise, as she knew how much Kouki had betrayed and wounded her mother, but Kyoko knew how she truly felt.

Which daughter would not want to see her father?

"How are you doing, Kyoko?" Kouki asked.

"Perfectly," Kyoko answered acidly. "If you're done seeing my daughter, you may leave."

Kouki sighed. "Why must you be so tiresome? There's no need for any hostility."

"I'm not being hostile," Kyoko said testily. "I just want some time alone right now."

"You're not still angry, are you?" Kouki said, shaking his head disapprovingly. Dressed in his impeccable suit, he looked every bit the successful businessman he was. "It's been years since we divorced. Can't we be more amicable about this? You act as if I have wronged you. I already told you, Kyoko. Marriage is a business agreement. I was no longer reaping any benefits, and so I ended the agreement. That's all there is to it. I do not harbor any ill will towards you."

"I'm sorry being with me wasn't beneficial enough for you," Kyoko bit at him.

Kouki sighed. "There's no need to be so hard on yourself. Age is an undeniable factor."

Kyoko dumped her handbag heavily onto the table. "Please leave as soon as you can."

"Mummy," Maria said meekly, "Daddy just got here. Maybe he can stay for a little—"

Kyoko slammed her hand angrily onto the mahogany dining table. The impact made the delicate outline of her palm ache, but she ignored it.

"If you like Daddy so much, why don't you just go and stay with him instead?" she snapped viciously.

Maria paled, large brown eyes tearing. "Mummy, I didn't mean that—"

"You're being unreasonable to Maria," Lina cut in haughtily. "God, you're horrible to your own daughter."

Kyoko clenched her teeth. There was nothing more humiliating than being told off by the mistress of her husband in front of her own child. The worse part was that Lina was right. Kyoko was venting her anger on Maria; her frustrations regarding what had happened earlier in the hospital, and now the hurt and despair at the unexpected appearance of her ex-husband and his new wife was rising like a tidal wave in her chest.

Her ex-husband, whom she had once loved just as much as Maria did.

"I think we should go," Kouki said wearily. "I know when I have outstayed my welcome." He glanced at Maria, and smiled. "Daddy and Lina have to go now. Say bye-bye to your stepmother, alright?"

"I, um—" Maria shot a scared look in Kyoko's direction, and then returned her gaze to her father, hands clasping the unopened lollipop apprehensively. Her thick curls glowed. "Bye bye."

"She's afraid of her own mother, Kouki," Lina said spitefully, gesturing with long, manicured nails. "I feel so sorry for your daughter. If the need arises, maybe we can report Kyoko for committing child abuse. They'll throw her in prison right away."

Kyoko's knuckles turned white from where she clutched the edge of the table, and her mouth trembled wretchedly.

"Enough, Lina,'' Kouki intervened. "Let's go."

She obeyed her husband sulkily, long legs swishing elegantly to the door. Kyoko didn't look up from where she stood by the table, even as Lina's thick perfume drifted past her nose.

There wasn't anything she wanted to see.

* * *

Maria shut the door of the apartment quietly.

She turned around, the silks of her frock bouncing as she timidly approached her mother.

"Mummy?" Maria asked softly. Kyoko was still standing beside the table, her hand clutching its edge, and her copper head bent. Her handbag sat on the table.

"Are you…okay?" Maria added hesitantly. Lowering the wrapped lollipop down on the table beside her handbag, she went to her mother's side.

She could see that her mother's whitened hand had gone absolutely still.

"Mummy?" Maria echoed.

Silence.

And then Kyoko crumpled. The purple chiffon of her sundress fluttered and her legs gave way so that she sank to the granite floor. The entirety of her small body rested helplessly against the table leg, as if it has gone limp.

"Mummy!" Maria cried in alarm. The little girl crouched down and took in her mother's pale face.

Kyoko's eyes were glassy and blank. There was so recognition in her eyes as she stared vacantly at Maria.

It was happening again. Maria had feared this would happen.

Another attack. It was something that the little girl was becoming more and more familiar with, and which she dreaded immensely.

This had gone on for a few years now.

Occasionally Mummy would suffer from what Maria vaguely understood as an 'attack'. It started between intervals of perhaps once every few months, and said intervals became increasingly shorter as time passed, much to her alarm. Now it happened about once every month. The first time it happened, Mummy had just finished a long, exhausting day of work and had later received a call from Daddy. Maria didn't know what the call entailed, but it was bad enough for Mummy to suffer from the first of many attacks to come. After hanging up, she sat down on the floor, curled up into a ball, and became unresponsive no matter how much a teary Maria prodded her and spoke to her. Maria had panicked, and then called Auntie Kanae—Mummy's best friend—on Mummy's phone. After Auntie Kanae arrived, she told Maria to stay put at home while she brought Mummy to a private clinic.

When Mummy and Kanae had returned home from the clinic, Mummy was back to normal. She was smiling again! She was back to her laughing, loving self, and all was right in Maria's world again. Mummy told Maria that she had been having a slight sickness, but she was okay now.

Mummy lied.

It happened again three months later. Mummy was getting worried over a piece of printed document called the 'bills'. Maria didn't know what it was, but it appeared to be quite an obstacle and cause of concern for Mummy. It involved money. Mummy had, quite reluctantly, called Daddy about it, and from what Maria understood, her stepmother Lina had answered the call instead. Maria wasn't sure why, but Mummy didn't seem to like Lina. Whenever Lina's name came up, Mummy's normally cheerful face would become lined and unhappy. The sides of her mouth would go down. When Lina took the call, Mummy had—also very unwillingly—addressed the mysterious 'bills' with her instead, asking her for help in regards to the issue in Daddy's stead. Lina must have said very mean things to Mummy, because when Mummy put down the phone, she cried. When Maria tried to comfort Mummy, she found that Mummy was having an attack again.

This time, when Auntie Kana brought Mummy back from the clinic again, she had brought Maria aside when Kyoko went to bed, and gently explained to a frightened Maria that her mother suffered from a sickness called 'depression'.

Maria had become hysterical immediately. She was immediately afraid that Mummy was going to die. However, Auntie Kanae soothed her and made it clear to Maria that Mummy wasn't going to die. She said depression wasn't a lethal sickness, not when it was put under control. Mummy was going to make it through. Maria was a major incentive for Mummy to want to continue living, and Auntie Kanae said that was enough. She warned Maria that if Kyoko went through spells of severe withdrawal and unresponsiveness again (which Maria would later understand was an 'attack'), she was to call Auntie Kanae and let her know. She was not to tell anyone else. Maria had promised at once.

Get better? Maria still wasn't sure if a recovery was ever happening. Maria knew Mummy had medication that she took every night, but it didn't seem to work, as those attacks didn't stop.

Today was evidence of that.

Maria fumbled into Mummy's handbag, and tugged out the metallic length of her smartphone. She had to call Auntie Kanae. Biting her lip nervously, the little girl scrolled down the list of contacts.

Kanae. Kanae. Where was Auntie Kanae's name?

Maria blinked in shock when the alphabets arrived at D, and she disbelievingly caught sight of a contact name called _Dr. Demon Tsuruga_.

Dr. Tsuruga? Mummy had his number?!

Maria's heartbeat quickened, and she looked at Mummy, who was still slumped against the table leg, staring hollowly at mid-air. It was terrifying, to see her usually radiant mother withdraw completely into a world of her own. Maria knew from past experience that nothing would register in Mummy's mind right now. She could scream or cry or shout, but Mummy couldn't hear. She could shake Mummy's shoulders, but Mummy wouldn't respond.

She had tried before too many times.

Other than Auntie Kanae, there was only one person outside of her family that Maria trusted deeply. Even if, for some reason, Auntie Kanae had told her not to tell Mummy's condition to anyone, she could trust this other person.

She dialled the number, and pressed _CALL_.

It took a few rings before the other end picked up. Maria's pulse went beserk at the sound of the deep, velvety-smooth voice.

"Tsuruga Ren speaking."

"Hello, Dr. Tsuruga," Maria squeaked nervously. Maybe this was a bad idea. Could patients call doctors privately? Didn't they have to get to the hospital administration first to book an appointment? Mummy always did that. Was she being majorly rude? "I don't know if you remember me since Mummy always says you have a lot of patients, but this is Maria Takarada. I need help. I—"

"Ah. Maria," Dr. Tsuruga said softly. He sounded very surprised, but he didn't seem annoyed. If anything, his baritone voice was as gentle and kind as ever. "Yes. Of course I remember you. How may I help you?"

He didn't ask any questions, she thought, feeling dazzled, as to why she was calling his number instead of the hospital's hotline (or even how Maria got his number). He was direct and blunt, and he went straight to the point.

"Dr. Tsuruga," Maria said brokenly, hoping her high-pitched voice wouldn't break off into a sob. She paused, searching for the right words to say.

He waited patiently, making no comment of his own.

"Please," she implored at last in anguish.

" _Please save Mummy."_

* * *

 _:tbc:_

* * *

 **A/N:** My own mother in real life has depression, and I have panic attack disorder. We have it bad enough that we received treatment in a hospital before; I had to stop school for a while due to that. There's something about mental illnesses that made me want to try to paint this story in a light I can personally relate to.

As for how long this fic is gonna be, I initially intended for it to be a standalone or a mini-chaptered one (like two or three chapters), but the more I planned and outlined the plot, the more complex it became. So I can't confirm how many chapters there will be. For now, I won't be upping the rating to M until the actual smut kicks in (which won't be too long actually)!

Thank you to everyone who reviewed!


	3. Chapter 3

_:Chapter 3:_

 _"Please save Mummy."_

Maria swallowed anxiously, awaiting the doctor's response. She glanced to her side, watching her mother, who was still curled up into a ball on the granite floor, her unresponsive body resting against the table leg.

Maria's anxiety grew tenfold, and her little heart sped up with worry. Was she going a bit too far to ask Dr. Tsuruga for help? He wasn't even a family friend, not like Auntie Kanae was to Kyoko and Maria. He was just a doctor that Maria saw once every month for her follow-up appointments. While it was true that Maria admired him and madly worshiped him, he was still a stranger in every other sense of the word. Maria didn't know if he was married (like Daddy and Mummy had once been), or if he had little kids of his own like herself. All she knew was his name and his profession. Maria didn't understand how Mummy got his phone number (patients were not supposed to have the doctor's private number, and of that the young girl was certain) but in her prospective, it was godsend.

Or it had been, until she actually made the call. Now the small girl's palms were sweating and she felt slightly foolish. She should just have called Auntie Kanae. Why would Dr. Tsuruga bother himself with Mummy? Why save her? He wasn't Mummy's doctor. He was Maria's doctor.

But Maria didn't fail to notice how the doctor often seemed to be watching Mummy back during Maria's appointments, and vice versa. While his attention towards Maria during his consultations never wavered (he was too meticulous and dedicated a doctor to ever be distracted when treating Maria), the eight-year-old noticed that those mysterious dark eyes frequently gazed in Kyoko's direction with a quiet but undeniable intensity. Her mother, for some strange reason, seemed frightened of him, and her face often turned red in the consultation room. Maria's face only turned red when _she_ was embarrassed, but she couldn't get why her mother would feel that way. What did Mummy have to be embarrassed about? It wasn't as if there was toilet paper sticking out of her pants (this had happened to a boy in her kindergarten class, and everyone had laughed at him), and even if it happened, Dr. Tsuruga was far too handsome and nice to laugh at Mummy!

There was no need to be embarrassed or scared. Dr. Tsuruga wasn't a monster, not like the ones under Maria's bed. If anything, she was sure he would scare those monsters away for her if she asked. He was this caring and kind. He was, in Maria's awed eyes, a protector and a guardian—a knight in shining armor, and her very handsome prince, like the ones in fairy tales like Cinderella and Snow White. Why couldn't Mummy understand that?

"I am afraid you might need to be a bit more specific, Maria," Dr. Tsuruga said gently, although Maria didn't miss the soft concern in his tone. "Is your mother facing some trouble?"

"Yes," Maria said gravely. In her agitation and worry, she found herself pacing around the apartment, and somehow she ended up walking to the kitchen, the silks of her doll-like dress bouncing. "Mummy is sick."

"Sick?" Dr. Tsuruga's deep voice sharpened.

"Yes," Maria squeaked, feeling slightly startled by the subtle change over the phone line. "I can't remember when, but last year Mummy got really sick for the first time and Auntie Kanae—that's Mummy's friend—brought her to a clinic. Later, Auntie Kanae told me that the doctor said Mummy has a sickness called…"

"Called?" Dr. Tsuruga prompted bluntly.

"I think she said it's called, um, depression, or something like that," Maria said into the phone. Her pulse thudded; Dr. Tsuruga, being a doctor, had to know what the sickness was! Even better than Auntie Kanae did, she was sure. "Auntie said Mummy won't die from it, because it's not a lethal sickness, but it's still pretty bad."

There was a short pause. Maria chewed her lip. Why wasn't Dr. Tsuruga saying anything? Did he not know what 'depression' was? Mummy had once told Maria that different doctors specialized in different things. Maybe that was why Dr. Tsuruga didn't know of it, because he didn't specialize in this 'depression' sickness? Maria wasn't sure what, exactly, that he specialized in, but she knew he was a surgeon. Maria had learnt about surgeons in school before; they cut patients up and dissected the organs inside their bodies while the patients fell asleep under the scary influence of injections (or something like that. Maria wasn't sure. She hated needles). Did people with depression have to undergo surgery? Mummy had never gone for surgery to treat her sickness. If patients with depression didn't have to undergo them, then perhaps that was why Dr. Tsuruga didn't know what depression was, because it was outside of his job scope.

That was strange, though, and a bit disheartening. To Maria, Dr. Tsuruga was a smart, clever, all-knowing prince! It never occurred to her that there might be things even he—with his qualifications and intelligence—didn't know of.

Before she could open her mouth and ask him if he knew, however, he spoke, very calmly.

"Correct me if I am wrong, Maria, but may I assume that your mother has been suffering from depression for a year or so?"

Maria inhaled rapidly, noting that the strange sharpness in his voice was still there. So he did know what Mummy's sickness was? The girl was instantly sorry that she had doubted her perfect prince.

"Yes," she said at once, her large hazel eyes filled with hope. If he knew what was wrong, he could help…right? She clutched the edge of the kitchen counter with a chubby hand tightly. "That's why Mummy hasn't been eating lately and why she keeps skipping mealtimes. But that's not the worst. What's worse is that sometimes she becomes completely quiet and won't talk to me even when I speak to her. Mummy just sits in a corner and won't respond at all no matter what I do or say."

"And that is happening right now?" Dr. Tsuruga inquired softly. He sounded level and reassuring as usual, but his words were laced with a strange emotion she couldn't grasp.

Maria nodded her head tearfully, her chestnut curls bouncing, then realised he couldn't see her over the phone.

"Yes," she answered, sniffing.

"You've been a very brave girl, Maria," Dr. Tsuruga murmured. She smiled bashfully through her tears at the compassion in his velvety baritone voice. "Do you think you can be brave enough to continue telling me more?"

"Of course," Maria said immediately, eager for his prolonged praise.

"I need to know the symptoms," he enunciated eloquently. "Is your mother breathless? Does she seem to be in pain? Does she ever convulse, and are her words slurred?"

"No, none of that," Maria replied certainly. She had seen the symptoms of Mummy's 'attacks' play out so many times now that she had memorized them all in her head. "Mummy doesn't talk. She just seems… Well, like Mummy is stuck in her own world, and won't come back out. Auntie Kanae usually brings her to the clinic when this happens, and she said the doctor there—his name is Dr. Fuwa—said that Mummy is having… What was it called? 'Spells of withdrawal', or something like that—"

"How long do these spells normally last?"

"I'm not sure," Maria said honestly, hiccuping. "Sometimes it goes away after some minutes, or other times Auntie has to help Mummy to bed. Mummy usually stays there for a few hours and when she wakes up, she's okay again. Then Auntie brings her to the clinic."

This didn't happen the first time, however. The first time Mummy had an attack, Auntie Kanae and her husband had both been just as unsettled and fearful as Maria, only they tried their best not to show it. Maria could tell they felt the same way, though, since Auntie's husband, Uncle Hiou, had piggybacked an unresponsive Kyoko—thank goodness she was very light—and hurriedly brought her to his car, parked by the the apartment block. Although Mummy was awake, as her eyes, half-lidded, were still open, she seemed unconscious. She couldn't stand (or wouldn't, Maria didn't know), and she didn't so much as stir either when Uncle Hiou lowered her limp frame onto the seating of the car.

They debated bringing Mummy to some place called the 'ER', but Auntie said to her husband she had a feeling she knew where Mummy's sudden bout of illness was coming from, and that it wasn't something the 'ER' could necessarily help with. A petrified Maria kept crying for Mummy, but Kyoko didn't answer her. She didn't answer anyone, not even when both Uncle Hiou and Auntie Kanae spoke to her. Auntie had gently comforted Maria and told her to stay put in the car when they reached the clinic, and the child was given no choice other than to obey and helplessly watch as Uncle Hiou then piggybacked Mummy past the glass doors of the private clinic along with his wife.

She hated that helplessness. Until today, it was the one thing she loathed more than anything else.

"I see," Dr. Tsuruga answered quietly.

"Will you come?" Maria burst out pleadingly. "It would mean a lot to Maria if you come. Auntie Kanae always comes over when this happens—"

"Yes."

Maria's breath caught.

He was going to come. Her prince, her savior, was going to come here and make everything okay again.

"Thank you," she whispered fiercely. "Thank you so much—"

" _Maria!"_

The eight-year-old gasped, ripping the phone away from her ear as she spun around from where she stood beside the steel refrigerator.

Her mother appeared at the entrance of the kitchen. Her heart-shaped, delicate face was as white as sheet and she was pressing her hand against the wall to support herself, but she was undoubtedly back on her feet. Despite looking as if she was about to collapse any second again, there was no denying the fire blazing in Kyoko's angry brown eyes.

"Mummy!" Maria squeaked. Her mother's smartphone nearly fell from her squirming fingers, and the little girl acted impulsively next—she hung up the call, jabbing clumsily at the lit phone screen.

Mummy stormed over to her, and through her haze of guilt, alarm, and dismay at being caught Maria couldn't help but notice that her mother's footsteps were still unsteady.

Kyoko snatched the smartphone away from her daughter's hand, her pulse racing and her head spinning. Shit. She wasn't sure how long she had been out of it just now, but it was evidently long enough for her daughter to get hold of her phone and make a call. While Maria did this often so as to reach Kanae (it touched her heart and angered her simultaneously that her daughter had to go through this so many times in order to accommodate Kyoko's poor health and her uselessness), Kyoko was afraid today might be an exception, especially if Maria browsed through her contacts and came across a particular name.

A name that Maria adored very much.

She stared at the details of the just finished call, blinking several times so that her bleary vision could focus on the horrifying black letters of a name on her phone screen.

Her fears were right.

Everything was falling apart.

Kyoko hadn't expected another attack to hit her today. But now that she thought back to the series of events this morning, it wasn't too shocking. It had begun with her frustrations back at the hospital during her encounter with Tsuruga Ren.

It was thrilling, exhilarating, and then, right as she finally felt daring enough to accept him, she found her heart slamming into the pit of her abdomen at what the nurse Manaka said. Her pride was immediately in tatters. How could the nurse be so cruel as to call Kyoko _old_ in front of the doctor? How was she supposed to face him again? It was not at all alright to have her shortcomings highlighted before a very attractive man. Her ex-husband had warned her about this, that she was no longer deemed as desirable in society. She felt wretched and ashamed for even entertaining notions regarding Tsuruga Ren despite Kouki's warnings—that someone of her age and plight could still want to have a night of fun. Fun? Fun was for the young and the beautiful. Fun was for men and their freedom.

And then when she had gotten home, the sight of her former husband and his new wife did not help matters. While she was certain that she no longer loved him, seeing him again was a reminder of old wounds. Said wounds had not healed yet. It was not mainly his betrayal that stung, but rather his parting words before their divorce. She would never forget his castigation and his labelling her as someone of diminished value. His new wife was a clear embodiment of what he thought defined true value, of how a woman should be. Seeing Lina Takarada reminded Kyoko of everything she was not…

…and of the type of woman so compatible with Tsuruga Ren.

Before she knew it, the familiar despair and misery rose like a tidal wave in her lungs and suffocated her, making her choke. It was suddenly hard to breathe, and hard to see. The view of her sweet, beautiful Maria—the view of laughter and wide smiles—faded from her eyes again, no matter how much she internally fought to maintain it. And then, hollowness swiftly followed, blotting out her sadness, so that she felt nothing at all.

She saw nothing. She heard nothing. She understood nothing.

It was worse than despair. It was a void. A cold, vacant void. At least unhappiness was a distraction; it was an emotion that _filled_ her.

Better to be filled with something than to be completely empty.

And in that emptiness, Kyoko hated no one. She didn't hate Kouki. She didn't hate Lina. She loved no one either. Maria no longer existed in her mind when she fell into that void. There was neither happiness nor anguish in there.

Kyoko called that void the 'Hole'. For that was what it was; a Hole that opened up and sucked her in during her most vulnerable moments.

By the time Kyoko managed to claw herself out of the Hole again, instead of relief, she registered a surge of horror and aching disappointment rushing through her belly.

Not again.

Hastily, Kyoko switched off her smartphone in case the surgeon called back. After all, Maria had hung up rather unceremoniously due to Kyoko's angry intrusion.

"What did you say to him?" she demanded raggedly, fingers clenching over the metal of her phone.

"I didn't—I…" Maria looked nervous and flustered, and she twisted her soft hands over the folds of her creamy frock. "I just told him I was Maria, and he said he remembered who I was—"

"And then?" Kyoko asked, suppressing the hysteria from bubbling into her voice. There was no point panicking. The damage was already done.

"And then nothing," Maria insisted. "Mummy came and I hung up."

Kyoko pressed her pale lips together, her heartbeat erratic. She wasn't sure what to believe; she did not manage to catch what Maria had said on her phone when she burst into the kitchen. Was her daughter being truthful? Had the call truly been so brief? She couldn't be sure. The only way to check was to turn on her phone again and inspect the duration of the call (if it was longer than a minute, then it could only indicate trouble), but she couldn't do that. What if Tsuruga Ren called her back? She wasn't sure how she was going to react if she received an incoming call from him. What if she didn't have the willpower to reject it? It was slightly ridiculous, but what if that damned hypnotic spell—the same spell that seized her every single time she saw him—made itself known over the phone as well? This was hell. He knew Kyoko's number now. Not just that, if Maria wasn't being honest with Kyoko and had indeed spilled the beans to him, he might know of her condition.

A condition Kanae and Kyoko had worked so hard together to conceal. No one other than Kanae, Hiou, and the private clinic psychiatrist—the insufferable Dr. Fuwa Sho—knew of this. If people caught wind of the fact that she was suffering from depression, she could get into deep shit. She might lose custody over Maria for being 'mentally unstable'. The court might accuse her of being incapable as a mother and for posing as a dangerous influence to Maria. If Kouki knew of this, he would seize custody over Maria and take her away, and then Kyoko would truly be all alone.

It was selfish of her, she knew, to want to keep Maria by her side when she was suffering from a mental illness no child should be privy to.

But if she lost Maria just like she lost her husband, then yes—she definitely wouldn't want to live in this world anymore.

She would welcome the Hole to take her.

"I'm sorry," Maria said, her mouth trembling. "Mummy, I just wanted to help. He's a doctor, and I thought he could help…"

Kyoko knelt down shakily, put the smartphone down on the floor, and rested her hands on Maria's tiny shoulders.

"I know, sweetie," she soothed. She fought back the tears gathering in her eyes. It wasn't Maria's fault. It was her own. She was the one who had driven a frightened Maria into a corner, and who had encompassed her into this nightmare. Her daughter had only been doing what she thought could help Kyoko. "I know. I'm sorry, Maria."

Maria's innocent eyes largened. "Why are you sorry, Mummy? It's not your fault!"

Kyoko drew the child into a hug. "For everything you've been through. Can you forgive me?"

"But, Mummy," Maria whispered confusedly, fisting her diminutive hands around her mother's copper hair. "You can't help being sick. Why is a patient asking for forgiveness? We should blame the germs instead. That's what made you sick!"

Kyoko laughed faintly, holding her daughter tightly. "Yes. Let's blame the germs, shall we?"

"They're the ones in the wrong, Mummy."

If only, Kyoko ruminated resignedly, life was as simple as that.

A short pause ensued as the woman, not allowing any of her negative thoughts to show in her face, gently stroked Maria's thick chestnut curls.

"Speaking of which…" She finally released her daughter from her hug, and straightened up. "Haven't I told you that you're not supposed to tell anyone other than Auntie Kanae about my condition? I get that you wanted to ask for help, but—"

"I know." Maria's lower lip quivered, and Kyoko's stomach twisted at her guilty expression. Had Maria blabbed the truth to Tsuruga Ren, after all? No. Kyoko didn't even want to go there. "But I don't understand. Why? Why can't I tell anyone?"

Kyoko took in an unsteady breath. She couldn't explain it to Maria.

And it was because of her own selfish fears.

If she explained to Maria the truth, and broke it down to her in detail that she might lose custody over Maria, this meant the eight-year-old would know she was given the option to stay with her father for good. And why wouldn't she want to stay with him? Being wealthier than Kyoko, his penthouse was a form of paradise to the little girl. He could buy her all her favorite toys and dolls (plus Maria absolutely adored the massive television, laptops, and other many fascinating technological devices he owned), and he could hire a maid to take care of all of Maria's household needs. She could have a large bedroom embellished with extravagant pink wallpaper—her favorite color—with a frilly four-poster bed, a large wardrobe of frocks, and a gorgeous vanity that she could play dress up with. Kyoko knew Kouki would definitely make that dream happen for Maria, and that he had the financial ability to do so. It was madly selfish of Kyoko, but she was too scared to let Maria know of this possibility.

Why would Maria want to stay beside Kyoko, when she couldn't offer Maria anything other than her love and care? Why stay with a mentally ill mother, who was more of a burden anyway? She feared that Maria might choose her father over her mother. Having Maria torn from her side was one thing. Having Maria willingly—and eagerly—run away from her into Kouki's awaiting arms was another.

It would destroy her.

"Because I told you so," Kyoko said curtly, picking up her smartphone and rising to her feet. "Do I need to explain everything to you all the time? Can't you just do what I say for once? I told you not to bother Dr. Tsuruga with things outside of your appointments, didn't I? But you never listen."

Maria clutched the hem of her frock, a familiar look of stubbornness crossing her cherubic features. "But I think—"

"This isn't about what you think," Kyoko interrupted harshly. Her voice had hardened from its initially gentle timbre. "If you don't like doing what I say, then go stay with Daddy. That's what you would want, right?"

She regretted her words as soon as she said them.

Maria cried out, "That's not true! I don't—"

"I know, I know," Kyoko sighed, grimacing at the growing ball of self-loathing in her chest. She was sickened at herself for lashing out at her daughter because of her own insecurities. Inhaling quickly, she forced herself to sound soft and gentle again. "I'm really sorry, sweetie. Let me heat up your lunch first, okay? Go out and play and I'll call you when lunch is ready."

"Is Mummy better now, though?" Maria asked timidly. "Should we still call Auntie Kanae?"

"I'm alright," Kyoko assured her, although she didn't, at all, feel alright. Her limbs still felt weak and wobbly from her attack earlier, not to mention that the chilly bitterness resting in her belly made her almost nauseous. "Go watch TV while I prepare your lunch. You don't want to miss your cartoons, do you?"

Maria fidgeted uneasily, as if worried about something, but she nodded and shuffled out of the kitchen.

Kyoko watched her go, wondering, perhaps, if it would be kinder for everyone to let Kouki have her after all.

* * *

She sat curled in the oval, marble bathtub, wrapping her arms around her knees. The soapy, warm water splashed lightly as it enveloped her naked, petite frame. Idly she flicked at a white soap bubble sprouting on her elbow, watching as it dissipated at her touch. Her copper hair was wet and disheveled, and strands of it clung to her delicate cheeks.

Maria was currently most likely sitting in the living room, eating and watching her cartoons. Kyoko had told her lunch was ready (she had microwaved yesterday's leftovers, consisting of some rice, vinegar-soaked cucumbers, and salmon), laid the bowls on the coffee table in front of the television, and then made her way alone to the bathroom in her room for a wash. Maria, sitting on a small stool by the teak coffee table, had asked Kyoko to join her for lunch, but the latter declined, stating that she wanted to take a bath and freshen up. She wasn't lying. The trip back from the hospital left her sweaty and sticky, and she felt uncomfortable inside the confining material of her purple sundress.

The same dress that Dr. Tsuruga had slid his long, dexterous fingers under…

Kyoko blushed fiercely. Her arousal grew.

Gasping, she slapped some bathwater over her face, letting it cleanse the heat in her cheeks.

Her elfin features still painted a stark shade of scarlet, she turned and glanced hesitantly at a small woolly knit pouch resting on the porcelain soap dish not too far away from the tub. Without looking she knew that the inside of the wool package contained one of her sex toys: a black plastic dildo (which was _not_ powered electrically. She wasn't that foolish to bring it to her bath if so). She had obtained it from the hidden compartment—hidden from an unknowing Maria, anyway—on the underside of her bed stand in her own bedroom right before heading for the bath.

This was also the reason Kyoko was desperate to take a dip in the tub. She wanted to take the edge off her tension privately.

 _Don't think about him._

She exhaled gustily. What was she going to do? How much did Maria really tell Tsuruga Ren? She was more convinced than ever not to show up for the next appointment Maria had with him. This was the reason she was relatively calm—and by 'calm' she meant that she was not having a fit or a seizure—that he might know of her depression, assuming the worst case scenario where Maria might have let the cat out of the bag. She wasn't ever going to see him again. Kyoko intended to hire a babysitter or ask Kanae to bring Maria to the hospital next month in her stead. Tsuruga Ren could think whatever he wanted judging from the details Maria might have blabbed to him, but if he never saw her again, then Kyoko would never have to deal with the embarrassment and unease of facing him and his reaction.

Or ever again experience the enthrallment and the captivation she always felt seeing him.

Kyoko groaned. Why was her heart doing this to her? Why was she so obsessed with Tsuruga Ren? Her thoughts kept flitting back to the gorgeous young nurse accompanying him ealier today, and jealousy swam in her chest. She was suddenly struck with the irrational urge to go back to the hospital and find that blonde woman—Manaka, that was her name. As if Kyoko could forget—and demand what her relationship with Ren was. Kyoko wanted the answer badly, and yet at the same time, she didn't want it. It was confusing. She wanted to ask, but she dreaded knowing who he was currently dating, or whom he had dated before. It was none of her business, anyway. Would knowing the number of his past and present lovers change anything? She wasn't going to see him again. Maria's appointments would remain as her only connection to the doctor, and she wanted to make sure it stayed that way.

Her thoughts drifted back to Maria.

Kyoko groaned. Lina was right. She wasn't treating her own daughter properly. Her mood swings and unhappiness was showing in the way she treated Maria. One minute she was loving and kind with her daughter, and the next she was venting her frustrations at the girl by snapping at her. It was no wonder Maria preferred Kouki to Kyoko. Kouki was a master at controlling his emotions. He was such a master at it that he was almost cold and distant sometimes. For Kouki, his life was one whole business arrangement. Efficiency was his motto, not emotion. Family was an obligation. Marriage was a business agreement. But Kyoko was sure Maria would prefer a cold father who was stable and financially secure than a desolate, unpredictable mother.

Love was supposed to be unconditional and selfless, right? Kyoko had to place her daughter before her own needs. Was her own happiness more important than Maria's? Of course not. It wasn't healthy, letting Maria stay in an environment where Kyoko was unwell. If Maria would feel better staying with Kouki—who would spoil her and lavish her with gifts at his expensive home—then who was Kyoko to refuse her ex-husband when it came to his seizing custody over Maria? As for Lina (Kyoko's stomach churned agonizingly as the other woman came to mind), she could serve as the maternal figure Maria needed in Kouki's household. Granted, Lina seemed far more interested in getting her manicure done and her hair styled than taking care of a kid, but she would look out for Maria if it was for Kouki's sake, right? Even if that wasn't the case, Kyoko could rest at ease knowing that Kouki would hire a nanny to take care of Maria.

If Kyoko lost custody over Maria, then she could comfort herself with the thought that her little daughter was content and safe in Kouki's hands.

And then she could let the Hole take her without any regrets.

Kyoko's head jerked. She sucked in her breath when she realised she was desperately digging her sharp nails into the side of her slender arms. She hastily let go, and winced at the sight of the resulting pink welts on her pale alabaster skin. Tiny droplets of blood oozed out. The stinging sensation of pain, further heightened by the bubbly soap coating her wounds, struck the fine surface of her arms.

 _I don't want to lose Maria._

She swallowed at the realization.

Kyoko was suddenly frantic to have her daughter back in her arms. To tuck her soft sienna curls under her chin, to have her little body—the same body, all those years ago, of the newborn Kyoko had first cradled back in the hospital ward after fourteen long hours of labour—resting in Kyoko's lonely embrace.

She abruptly stood up in the tub. Soap buds slid off the naked dips and curves of her petite figure. She unexpectedly longed for her daughter's company, and wanted to ask her to join her bath.

It wouldn't be the first time mother and daughter bathed together. Until today, Maria enjoyed being bathed by her mother. She loved how Kyoko took her time cleansing her thick mass of curly hair with shampoo while massaging her scalp in the process. It was family quality time, and they always adored the moments spent between each other as they washed themselves in the tub. People, specifically Kanae, said Kyoko spoiled Maria by continuing to bathe her even at this age, but Kyoko didn't care.

Kyoko grabbed a thick fluffy towel from a metal stand and wrapped it around herself so that it fit snugly over the torso of her body, where the cloth begun at her breasts and ended at her thighs. She tied a knot right under her shoulder. Blanching, the woman gripped the woolly knit pouch—containing her dildo—sitting on the soap dish and brought it with her out of the bathroom. The last thing she wanted was for Maria to see it, god forbid!

Shivering at the cold air that greeted her bare flesh outside of her tub and dripping bathwater onto the granite floor, she impulsively stuffed the wool pouch into the top drawer of the blue-painted medical cabinet positioned beside her wardrobe, and then slammed it shut. She'd put the pouch back to its original place under her bed stand later.

"Sweetie?" Kyoko called, wandering out of her bedroom and into the living room, still clutching her towel. The TV was switched off, much to her astonishment. Bowls of half-finished food remained on the coffee table. "Where are you? Would you like to take a soak with Mummy?"

She suddenly stopped, her damp feet coming to a halt.

Kyoko's pulse lurched and a sharp discord of ringing screeched in her ears at the sight of Maria standing next to a tall, sophisticated-looking man, who had stepped in through the door of the apartment. Kyoko could hear the keys in Maria's hand tinkling.

Dr. Tsuruga Ren's dark eyes bored into Kyoko's stunned hazel ones.

Her mouth was wide open in shock; she was rendered completely speechless.

"Mummy," Maria squealed.

It was the first time she ever saw him without his doctor's overcoat. He wore an expensive, beige trench coat instead, coupled by a pair of skin-tight black trousers and a silk russet sweater. His thick dark hair was slicked back, further highlighting the aristocratic, chiseled features of his face. It was as if a male supermodel had invited himself in, a striking contrast against the mediocrity of her apartment.

He looked dapper and extremely elegant.

Tsuruga Ren's ebony eyes dipped and her breath caught when he quietly scrutinised her. It was then when she realised with an embarrassed and apprehensive jolt that she was wearing _nothing_ save for a towel, and that her body was still dripping wet from her bath.

Yet Kyoko didn't move, even though every inch of her skin was screaming at her to run back to her room and get some clothes on. She was frozen like a statue under the burning intensity of his obsidian eyes. The air was frigid and still. Sexual tension sparked across the apartment like invisible fireworks. He silently observed the glistening curve of her bare breasts, the darker shade of her areolae just hidden out of sight under the milky towel. As soundlessly as before, he lazily gazed down to where the fabric ended and where her moist shapely thighs—coated by trickles of bathwater—were exposed.

Obsidian eyes darkened into jet black.

"Are you alright?"

Kyoko swallowed slowly at the rich, lush tone of his husky voice. She cleared her dry throat, struggling to make her paralysed vocal chords work again.

"W—What?" she said faintly.

Yes! She managed to say something!

"I said," he repeated gently, "are you alright?"

"I'm sorry, Mummy," Maria burst out, looking remorseful but at the same time defensive, her little hands pressed together. "I had to tell him you were sick. I'm sorry I lied to you! But Dr. Tsuruga said he would come and save you—"

"How?" Kyoko sputtered, her soprano voice strangled.

Maria appeared confused, but Dr. Tsuruga comprehended the details behind her question, as vague and unspecific as it was.

"Your residential address is listed in Maria's patient records," he answered simply.

Kyoko stared at him, still clutching the towel. "But…"

Again, he understood her despite the lack of further emphasis. It was almost as if he could read her mind. The thought disconcerted her and thrilled her simultaneously.

"I switched my work shifts today with one of my colleagues," Dr. Tsuruga murmured.

Something swelled like a balloon within her chest. For a second Kyoko was bewildered as to what it was, but then she recognised the emotion.

She was touched.

This doctor had gone out of his way to help her. Whatever Maria might have told him, he had listened to the ramblings of a little girl on the line, and had been worried about Kyoko's welfare. Most doctors would not have believed Maria's tale (due to her young age and her naïvety), and would instead have advised her over the phone to simply contact the hospital administration or head over to the ER if Kyoko was unwell. Once they ended the phone call, those doctors would have moved on to their other numerous medical obligations. They would not actually sacrifice their work hours to personally travel to the patient's residence to see if said patient—the caller—was doing okay. A doctor, going out of his way to make a house call? This was unheard of in this age and day (although Kyoko's flat was actually very near the hospital), unless it was an emergency and that an ambulance had to be called. Kyoko could say what she wanted about Turuga Ren, but he was a devoted doctor worthy of her respect. He obviously cared about his patients.

Her feelings, however, were mixed. She was mortified that he had caught her in a state of near undress, and that, indeed, he knew of her condition. She felt vulnerable and naked (literally, too), without her armor in place to shield herself and her insecurities. She hated how he seemed to strip all her layers of protection apart, forcing her to reveal all her flaws and blemishes before his knowing eyes.

For Tsuruga Ren now undoubtedly knew that she was a victim of depression, which she _never_ wanted him to learn of.

She would have to do something. She had to beg him to keep quiet about her condition, and not let anyone else know. Her personal feelings about his reaction be damned. What was most important was that she didn't lose custody over Maria.

But first...

"I'm alright. Let me just get changed first," Kyoko said. Her voice was shrill and quaky. Feebly she gestured at the couch. "Dr. Tsuruga…Um, feel free to make yourself comfortable. Maria, please entertain him—"

"Yes!" Maria said excitedly. She tugged at Tsuruga Ren's large hand, which was gloved in leather, and led him into the apartment, a delighted beam on her round, cherubic face.

"Ah, but I am already more than _entertained_ ," he remarked coyly, approaching Kyoko with graceful, long-legged strides. His dark eyes casually roved Kyoko's dripping wet, miniature form again. "I have been quite…preoccupied since I saw your mother."

Kyoko's face flushed and her hands tightened over the towel. Finally breaking out of the deep spell he seemed to always cast over her (her limbs were finally moving again), she hurriedly turned to rush back to the refuge that was her room. In her frenzy, though, her narrow foot skidded on a puddle of bathwater—the liquid collected from her dripping copper hair and body—on the granite floor, and she gasped in alarm as she lost control over her equilibrium. Her knees, still weak, buckled and she fell. She vaguely registered Maria's shocked voice crying out her name.

And then a strong arm whipped around her waist, steadying Kyoko before she hit the cold hard floor. Her head jerked backwards and landed against a warm, muscled surface.

His chest.

The moment she managed to balance herself again, she stiffened. The masculine scent of spice and rain greeted her olfactory senses, and she realized, her pulse thundering and her cheeks blazing, that she was in Tsuruga Ren's arms. Her small hand flew up and slid over the knot of her towel, making sure that it was still in place. She prayed the cloth hadn't fluttered upwards during her fall, revealing anything in the process.

This was so humiliating. It was one thing to appear in front of him half-naked, but slipping and falling while covered by a mere towel only made it so much worse. And she needed him to catch her!

Never mind that his contact sent her skin tingling…

Before Kyoko could so much as savor his dazzling proximity, however, he released her, certain that she had regained her footing. The abrupt loss of his heat disappointed her, but she struggled to keep it from showing in her visage.

At least she was steady on her feet once more.

"Mummy," Maria cried, her eyes wide. She ran to her mother, and threw her little arms around her towel-clad waist. "Are you okay?"

Kyoko smiled wanly, and patted her hand reassuringly on Maria's unruly chestnut head, all the while increasingly aware that Dr. Tsuruga Ren was wordlessly watching.

Clearing her throat self-consciously, she then disentangled herself away from Maria's grip, squared her tiny bare shoulders, and told herself not to make eye contact with the doctor. "Yes, sweetie. All thanks to Dr. Tsuruga. Now I really have to go change—"

"I don't think you are alright."

She set her jaw stiffly, already turning away to head to her bedroom, where she intended to just curl up in a mortified ball inside. "We can talk about my condition privately after I change—"

Ignoring her, he shifted fluidly nearer towards her again, eliciting a squeak from her lips at his unapologetic approach. Long, adroit, gloved fingers curled around her upper left arm (the arm closest to him), and gently lifted the slender appendage.

He wasn't talking about her mental condition.

Her breath hitched at the clear view of angry, red welts on her otherwise creamy skin. They were the wounds she had accidentally inflicted on herself earlier in the bath with her nails.

"Mummy," Maria gasped, her palms clasped together in shock as Ren let go. "How did you get this? Did you get bitten by a bug?"

"Yes," Kyoko said, because it was easier to explain. To Maria, anyway. Dr. Tsuruga was, on the other hand, another story. There was no way those cuts even resembled bug bites, especially not under a medical professional's scrutiny. "I'll handle this—"

"Go and change first," Tsuruga Ren interrupted sedately. Despite the softness and politeness of his tone, Kyoko recognised that it was a command in disguise. "You are going to catch a cold at this rate."

Kyoko was instantly indignant, even though that was indeed her next course of intended action. "Don't tell me what to—"

He went on smoothly, unpeturbed. "Once you are done changing, you will have to apply some ointment. Do you have any?"

She glared at him, but decided to tone down her hostility for Maria's sake. "I have some Aquaphor ointment in my cabinet," she said grudgingly, and turned her disheveled copper head to address her daughter. "Maria, stay here and finish your lunch while I go change, okay?"

The eight-year-old nodded reluctantly, and plopped herself back onto the stool by the coffee table, still watching her mother and Tsuruga Ren curiously with wide pools of ochre eyes even as she grabbed her spoon. Kyoko sighed, then made her way gingerly to her bedroom, careful not to lose her balance over the puddles of water a second time. She tensed when she realised the surgeon was following her, his gloved hands tucked in the large pockets of his trench coat, and his footfalls gracefully catlike and soundless.

She halted once she was inside the bedroom. "What are you—"

"Your cabinet," he prompted gently. He interestedly studied the interior of her relatively simplistically furnished room: a double bed, a vanity, a wardrobe, and finally, the cabinet. How audacious of him to boldly enter a woman's bedroom!

Kyoko was certain it wasn't the first time he was in one.

She clenched her fists over the top of her towel. "I can manage—"

"No, you cannot," Tsuruga Ren cut her off again, in a pleasant, but cool tone. "Firstly, from what I have seen so far, you are not taking proper care of yourself. I am only refraining from asking about your cuts because I am aware it is not the appropriate time now. I am sure you don't wish to frighten Maria any more than you already have. Secondly, you are going to catch a cold if you continue parading around with nothing but a wet towel, so I would advise that you get changed now. If you continue showing this much skin in front of myself—" His onyx eyes blackened, and she was instantly taken aback by the hungry, predatory gleam in his gaze. "Then I assure you a cold will be the least of your problems right now."

It was a warning. What he had said during their meeting in the hospital flashed back into her mind.

He had proclaimed quite bluntly that he wanted to take her.

 _Fuck_ her.

Kyoko trembled. She couldn't let him know just how much his warning affected her. What was even scarier was that she was completely nude—no panties, nothing at all—under the towel, and that liquid heat had blossomed in between her legs at his words. Before she knew it, she was wet, and _not_ because of her bath. The girl squirmed at the slickness between her quivering inner thighs.

All he had to do, with a flick of his long, spidery fingers, was pull apart the flimsy layer of cloth surrounding her breasts and slim hips, and she would be absolutely bare before him.

To her horror, more heat gathered within her at the thought.

Kyoko wanted him to do it. She could tell herself otherwise, but deep, deep inside, she wanted it.

Desired it.

As if he was deciphering her mind, the male slowly lifted a large, gloved hand from his coat pocket, and extended it languidly towards her.

Beautiful, long, doctor's fingers.

She snapped out of the trance she had unknowingly fallen into.

With a high-pitched squeak, Kyoko rapidly dashed into her bathroom like a cornered rabbit. Once she was inside, she grabbed the metal knob and closed the door partially so that she could hide her towel-clad figure behind it. With only her copper head exposed as she peered out the side of the bathroom door, she pointed a finger weakly at the medical blue-colored cabinet next to her wardrobe.

"I have Aquaphor ointment in there, and other medicine," Kyoko stammered, ignoring the open amusement in his countenance.

Why did she have the feeling that he had manipulated her into hurrying to change?

He flashed white, even teeth at her, laughter vibrating from his silky baritone voice. "Yes. Thank you for letting me know."

Kyoko swallowed a massive lump at the back of her throat, and then slammed the door fully shut.

He vanished from her vision.

Once she was sure the door was locked, she quietly tugged at the knot of the towel, and it unraveled. The cloth fell away onto the floor, revealing the entirety of her small, delicate body.

Her mouth tightened when the faint stretch marks on the milky skin of her abdomen came into view. Without hesitation she reached out and traced a finger along the creases, sighing. Her hand slid further down, and she brushed her fingertips across the almost invisible cesarean scar puckered directly above her pubic curls.

And her hand crept further down.

It didn't take long. She was already so painfully aroused that she came a a minute later, silently. She had switched on the tap so that the gushing of running water would muffle any moans she emitted, and had clamped her free hand over her mouth. It wasn't an intense orgasm (more of a rather light, short one, for her standards), but it took the edge off her stress. As she came, images of Tsuruga Ren's erotic dark eyes and his sensual lips swam into her mind. She recalled the sensation of his tall, muscled body—the same hard surface she had been pressed against earlier when he caught her. She imagined kissing him, and touching the hard slabs of muscle hidden beneath the silk of his coat.

The images brought her to orgasm with alarming velocity.

Once Kyoko had regained her composure, she hastily wiped away the remnants of her release from between her legs (and her fingers), and then slid on a tee and sweatpants—she had prepared them before her bath—from the metal stand of the bathroom, wincing as the fabric grazed her wounded arms. Then she drained out the bath.

Never mind that she had touched herself to fantasies of Tsuruga Ren, with him standing right outside the door. Her swift and brief climax did its trick. It resolved most of the sexual tension she had been enduring inside of her since seeing him. She was calmer and more collected now. With her clothes came the protection of her modesty, and with the protection came her courage.

Now fully dressed and cleaned, Kyoko switched off the tap, unlocked her bathroom door and stepped out, then stopped in her tracks.

It seemed, she discovered, that she was going to need said courage.

She sucked in a horrified breath, and reeled, aghast.

Tsuruga Ren stood calmly in front of her medical cabinet, where the top drawer was pulled open. The significance of that finally struck her. Almost at once a flashback flew through her head of what she had stuffed there at the last minute before leaving her bedroom in search of Maria just now.

Tsuruga Ren held a familiar wool pouch in his slender, leather-gloved hand. His obsidian eyes glanced wryly to her reddened face.

 _Please tell me he didn't open the pouch._

 _Please._

The surgeon's sculpted lips parted, and he spoke.

"How intriguing," he murmured silkily. "It appears that a dildo has become part of your medical supplies...no?"

* * *

 _:tbc:_

* * *

 **A/N:** Yes. From this chapter onwards, this fic will be rated M. How sad for Kyoko that as an adult woman she has been alone and celibate for a whole eight years. Anyway, in the meantime, in regards to some of your questions, yes, both Sho and Lory will show up in this fic. Sho's role has already been hinted at in this chapter!

It hasn't been easy for me lately. I'm currently working in a huge law firm and the pressure is really bad. Writing fics and getting reviews have cheered me up and distracted me from the harshness of working life AKA reality.

So thank you for reviewing! Reviews keep me writing, so please drop one to cheer this lonely writer up!


	4. Chapter 4

_:Chapter 4:_

 _Oh, God._

 _Why is this happening to me?_

Kyoko just couldn't understand it. Why, oh why, was she constantly humiliating herself around Dr. Tsuruga Ren?

The first of many to come was during Maria's visit in his consultation room, where her daughter had unknowingly exposed Kyoko's bedroom activities—or her pathetic attempts at imitating some, due to the absence of a partner—to him. Kyoko wasn't sure how she was going to live that one down, but then a week passed and she found herself being humiliated again by some pretty nurse about her age, no less. And within the same day she had embarrassed herself by popping up in front of the doctor dressed in nothing but a towel, then nearly tripping and landing on her ass over a puddle on the floor (if not for the fact that he had valiantly saved her!). As if being in dishabille wasn't bad enough, he had now caught her red-handed with one of her _sex toys._

There had to be a limit to how much humilation a person should endure.

Kyoko resented how pitiful and wretched she must appear to him. A single mother with nothing but sex toys to keep her company, whose age has eroded her beauty and value (being called an 'old lady' by a young nurse was a clear indicator of that), and to top it off, she was a victim of a mental disorder, something he certainly knew now. Everything about her must appall him; she was unwanted, worn-out, aged, and mentally ill. This was not the image she wanted to portray to a very sexy man whom she was madly attracted to.

Everything was a mess.

"Give it back!" Kyoko cried, her arm whipping out to snatch the wool pouch from his long-fingered hand. Instead of letting her, he raised his own arm lazily so that it dangled way out of her reach.

"What the hell are you doing?" she snapped frantically, annoyed at the stunning gap in height between them. The top of her head barely reached his chest. "Give it back, I said!"

"I'd advise you not to raise your voice," he suggested amusedly. "I am sure you won't want Maria to come running in, wondering what is going on...would you?"

Kyoko immediately gasped, slamming her lips together. Her hazel orbs darted guiltily to the open door of her bedroom, leading to where she knew her daughter was alone in the living room, finishing her lunch. When she looked back from the door, her heart nearly jumped into her mouth at the sultry obsidian eyes gazing at her.

"Please," she whispered testily, stretching her hand desperately—to no avail—for the pouch hanging in mid-air from his leather-gloved fingers. "Give it back already."

"Now, now," he murmured teasingly, ignoring her wild but futile attempts to retrieve his bait. "There is no need to be so worked up."

"Well, excuse me for being worked up, you thieving asshole—"

Tsuruga chuckled. "How rude. Don't fret; I have no intention of stealing your precious prize, darling."

"It's not precious to me! It's not…mine," Kyoko lied impulsively, her cheeks burning. Having a large black dildo associated with herself simply made her want to curl up and die. "It's, um—"

"Maria's?" Tsuruga inquired ironically.

Her delicate jaw dropped, and she hissed furiously. "Watch what you say, you inappropriate, rotten—"

"And you should watch where you keep these things." It took Kyoko a second to realise she was being reprimanded, albeit rather politely so. "What if Maria came across it?"

"I don't usually keep it here in the cabinet!" Kyoko bit at him defensively. Her face was so red she probably looked like a bright tomato, and her embarrassment rose tenfold. "As if I usually keep it at such an accessible place! Do you think I'm some kind of idiot? I only stuffed it there at the last minute just now because—"

She suddenly cut off, gaping at the torrent of words that had inadvertently fallen from her lips.

Words that gave away far more than was necessary.

That was the issue. When it came to Dr. Tsuruga Ren, Kyoko seemed incapable of keeping her mouth shut. She was supposed to be—and had been for a long while—reserved, reticent, and meek, as was what a rich man like Kouki's trophy wife should be. Women should be seen and not heard in the business world; men did the domineering and the leading. It was extremely chauvinistic of Kouki, but Kyoko had been married to him long enough that his sexist beliefs and views had rubbed off on her. Although she had divorced from him, she had grown tired and weary, and could no longer find it in herself to gather the fierce, defiant attitude a modern-day female should possess. She had become very quiet in recent years.

Not with Dr. Tsuruga, though.

With the doctor, Kyoko found herself slowly crawling out of her shell, though whether or not she was actually being dragged out, she didn't know. He aggravated her, and frequently sent her into a frenzy. A humiliated frenzy, that was. If she ever wanted to become less meek and taciturn, and to start expressing herself more, she hoped to at least come off as sophisticated from the mannerisms with which she spoke. She definitely did not want to sound like a mortified, undignified madwoman, but it seemed that was exactly what she was acting like. If that was the case, Kyoko would rather remained closed off.

But at this rate, it didn't seem to be working out.

"Ah," Tsuruga Ren said softly, intense dark eyes flashing at her as he effortlessly pieced together what she had revealed. "Yes… You were coming out of your bath earlier, as I recall—and I suppose it was quite a _refreshing_ bath for you, was it not?"

A rich crimson hue coated her fine features, and her pulse grew erratic.

"I don't—I didn't!" Kyoko sputtered indignantly. At least she was truly being honest this time. "You're a… You're a pervert!"

He threw back his august head and laughed, deep, sensuous voice rumbling at the back of his throat. "Oh? If I am not mistaken, this..." He languidly shook the wool pouch, and his grip on the material visibly outlined the length of the plastic phallus inside. "…belongs to you, not me."

Kyoko balked. "You—I—" she spluttered, her face flaming. "I'm _not_ a pervert! I'm a…a mother, you hear me?"

Dr. Tsuruga's dark brows rose.

Her copper head jolted and she inhaled shallowly when he took a step forward, shifting unapologetically into her personal space. The heady, masculine scent of spice filled her sensitive nose, and she swallowed. Hard.

"For a long while now, you seem to be harboring some form of misconception," Tsuruga Ren said evenly. His large, long-fingered hand—the one not carrying the pouch—gently rested over her red cheek, the smoothness of his warm, leather-clad digits caressing her soft skin. She was too frozen to resist. "There is nothing wrong for any woman, mother or not, to seek gratification. You deserve all kinds of pleasure, Mogami Kyoko. Emotional pleasure. Physical pleasure. Or both, if you will."

Kyoko shivered. And then he withdrew his hand from her face, and cold, empty air grazed her cheeks. She was instantly disappointed, but his next words distracted her.

"However, I must admit I personally feel quite offended that you would much rather derive pleasure from a surrogate," Tsuruga Ren murmured, glancing contemptuously at the pouch, "than something a little more... real?"

His black eyes flashed.

He was _jealous_ of a dildo? How did that even make sense?!

"No," Kyoko said hoarsely, more aware than ever of the virile masculinity he emanated. Her legs seemed to have been reduced to jelly, and as if to cover up her sudden weakness, defiance crept into her voice. She hugged herself, wrapping her hands protectively over her arms, and winced lightly as she touched the welts she had inflicted earlier on her injured skin. "I told you. I'm fine. I don't need to derive pleasure from either option. I…I don't need something as stupid and ridiculous as pleasure in the first place."

She realised too late that she had made a mistake.

"Oh, is that so?" Tsuruga Ren enquired diabolically, the corners of his perfect lips curling upwards in a dangerous manner. "I see. I take it you won't need this, then."

Unexpectedly, he turned and glided casually out of the bedroom, footfalls elegant and graceful. It took her a horrified second to realise that he was still holding the pouch.

"Wait!" Kyoko shrieked, running after him. "What are you doing?"

Maria stood by the coffee table in the living room, looking perplexed.

"What's happening, Mummy?" she asked, her voice muffled from the food she was chewing in her mouth. "What is Dr. Tsuruga holding?" She jabbed a small, chubby finger at the long, wool pouch in his fingers.

"It's nothing!" Kyoko blurted hastily, scurrying over towards the tall man so that her body blocked the view of the object. Even though the adult toy was hidden out of sight from where it was tucked snugly inside the pouch, she wasn't taking any chances. "It's just an empty pouch—"

She heard Tsuruga Ren's chuckles ringing in her ears, and silently cursed him. As she continued sprinting after him, he entered the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" Kyoko fired at him. "You said you wouldn't steal—"

"I am not stealing it," he answered calmly, astute dark eyes scanning the kitchen. "Ah. There we go."

The male reached out and fluidly pulled a metal door open from the side of the wall.

The metal door of the rubbish chute.

"Are you insane? Stop!" Kyoko screamed, grabbing his arm, just as a loud pattering of footsteps resounded through the kitchen, letting her know that a curious Maria had ventured into the scene as well. "This is a crime! You can't do this! You can't throw it away! It's mine, okay? Stop!"

It was like trying to move a mountain. The hard muscles of his arm contracted beneath her touch, and she gasped at the helplessness of her frail strength against his.

"Please," Kyoko implored. "Stop. You can't throw it away. What am I supposed to do without it when—"

She stopped, faltering.

… _When I need to relieve my stress?_

"When?" Tsuruga prompted mockingly.

There was a heavy pause, where a nonplussed Maria glanced at both of them, her pretty ochre eyes wide and puzzled.

"I believe you said earlier," Dr. Tsuruga enunciated slowly and deliberately, onyx eyes gleaming, "that you don't require gratification. Why keep this, then, since it is, as you stated, _ridiculous_ and _stupid?"_

Kyoko's breath hitched, and she turned a shade of scarlet.

"I don't understand, Mummy," Maria piped up confusedly. "Isn't it just an empty pouch? Why are you so scared that Dr. Tsuruga is going to throw it away?"

"It's nothing, sweetie," Kyoko said at once. "Nothing at all. Go and finish your lunch—"

"I already finished my rice," Maria replied defensively, sounding affronted. "And what are you hiding, Mummy? What's so special—" She pointed at the pouch in Tsuruga Ren's fingers. "—about that?"

"I told you, sweetie, nothing—"

"I want to see it!" Maria rushed forward with her chubby hand outreached.

Kyoko let out an alarmed and frightened cry and rapidly tore the pouch from the amused surgeon's large hand. Judging by the determined expression on Maria's face, she knew her young daughter was going to attempt to snatch the thing from her, and was not going to relent without a fight. Despite her miniature size, Maria was a rather hardy, energetic, and strong girl when she wanted to be, and Kyoko was aware that she might not be able to hold her own for long against the vitality of her daughter, especially not in her currently tired and weakened state. It was almost ridiculous, but true. Kyoko was hungry, fatigued, and her injured arms felt sore and painful. She had no power at the moment—or since the past few months—to face an enthusiastic, spirited child. One solution was for Kyoko to sidestep Maria, rush to her bedroom and stuff the adult toy back in its hiding spot, but this was dangerous because Maria would certainly be hot on her heels now that her curiosity was piqued, and she would not rest until she somehow dug out the object again from Kyoko's stash.

No one got in the way of a stubborn child keen on hunting for her target. Maria would ransack Kyoko's bedroom if it meant getting her hands on Kyoko's pouch—and the inappropriate contents inside—again, if only to discover what her mother was hiding.

Gritting her teeth, Kyoko was only left with one other solution.

She dumped the pouch into the rubbish chute before Maria could pounce on her, and slammed the metal door shut, her lips twisted agitatedly.

When Kyoko looked up again, she found herself staring into satisfied, obsidian eyes.

A wild thought instantly crossed her mind.

Had Tsuruga Ren _orchestrated_ this?

What the hell? Why? She knew a big part of the reason had to be because she had denied—and yes, lied about—wanting or needing any pleasure. She had defiantly told him she was fine even if she did not receive any sexual gratification (that she didn't need it), when they both knew she was being dishonest. Was this some sort of punishment for lying?

And why was he so displeased that she owned an adult toy (amongst several others, not that she was going to mention about her vibrator)? Was he truly—and she still couldn't fathom it—jealous of a freaking dildo? What was there to be jealous about? It wasn't as if she was found sleeping with another man. It was a plastic, artificial, fake phallus, for God's sake, even if she could feel her skin flushing at the mere thought of it. She had a hunch, though, that the existence of her vibrator (which she was _not_ going to tell him about) might not placate him any further than the plain old dildo had, assuming the mortifying possibility that he might stumble across it as well. It was the idea that she had derived pleasure from a form of masculine anatomy—artificial or not—which was not his that annoyed him. He was surprisingly proud, Kyoko discovered, and unreasonably childish, not to mention manipulative.

But then again, she had her own insecurities, too. Did she reserve the right to judge?

Nevertheless, Kyoko was about to open her mouth and yell at him for his blatant contentment about the turn of events when the surgeon spoke, though not, she realised, to her.

"Maria," Dr. Tsuruga smiled gently at the child. "You have finished your lunch, I presume?"

"Yes," Maria said, though she looked pretty diappointed at how Kyoko had tossed the object of mystery away.

"I am happy to hear that. Did you find it to your liking?"

"Yes!" she beamed. "Mummy's a great cook!"

"How about your mother?" Dr. Tsuruga went on pleasantly, as if they were simply chatting about the weather. "Has she eaten?"

"Oh." Maria shook her curly head. "No, Mummy hasn't."

"Hmmm," Tsuruga Ren said thoughtfully, and Kyoko squirmed uneasily at the unreadable tone of his deep, baritone voice. "I see. Well then, shall we go out for lunch together? Maria, what do you think about having some dessert?"

"Yes!" Maria shrieked joyfully, looking like she was about to pass out from delight at his proposal. "I still have space here!" She pressed her tiny palm against her belly, as if to prove her point.

Kyoko's jaw went slack. "What?" she demanded dumbly. "But Dr. Tsuruga, you already ate!" She glared balefully at him, ignoring the mad pace of her heartbeat. "You were heading to the hospital cafeteria with that…nurse when I last saw you during lunchtime."

The sculpted lips curved. "Did I? How curious. I don't remember."

"You—" Kyoko stammered exasperatedly, glowering. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, you insufferable—"

"Maria, would you like to go and change first before we leave?" Tsuruga Ren suggested silkily to her daughter, ignoring Kyoko, much to her fury.

Maria brightened at the prompt. "Yes! I have some super nice dresses I always wanted to wear out! There's a new one Mummy just bought for me that's pink with a lot of flowers and ribbons on it! It's so pretty. But I'll have to choose! Let me pick one first, and then I'll change!"

"I am sure you will look beautiful either way, Maria," Dr. Tsuruga commented graciously, smiling. "But I look forward to being surprised."

The little girl blushed, flattered. It was clear she was determined to dress her best for her prince now that they were going on an actual outing together. She scampered eagerly out of the kitchen, the silks of her current frock bouncing. No doubt the child intended to search her wardrobe for the frilliest and fanciest ensemble she could dig up.

Kyoko seethed, her hazel eyes narrowed at him.

"We don't have to go out," she hissed. "Why are you doing this?"

"To ensure that you eat," Tsuruga Ren responded candidly. "I will not have you starving yourself, as you clearly have been doing the past month."

"I have _not_ —"

"You have lost weight," Dr. Tsuruga cut in, and there was a frightening coolness in his velvety tone this time that made her wary. "You will be endangering your health if you continue losing weight as it is. If not for yourself, then you should at least take care of your well-being for Maria's sake, no?"

Kyoko swallowed back a retort. The worse part was that he was right. She couldn't argue with his point.

The distant sounds of a phone ringing caught her attention, and she stiffened. Muttering to the doctor that she would be back, Kyoko hurried across the living room to her bedroom, where she had last left the house phone behind.

She picked up the device from her bed stand a few seconds later, and answered it breathlessly, dropping herself onto the edge of the bed. "Hello?"

"Kyoko." Kouki's familiar, brisk voice spoke.

The petite woman's body turned rigid. This was the last person she had expected to call, especially since he had just paid a house visit mere hours ago. "What?"

"It seems you have forgotten about it, after all," Kouki said dryly.

"Forgotten what?" Kyoko countered belligerently. "Look, whatever it is you have to say, couldn't you have said it when you were here earlier?"

"I did not intend to initially," Kouki said tiredly, "but there has been…a change of plans."

"What are you talking about?" Kyoko wanted to know.

She looked up, startled, when Tsuruga Ren suddenly appeared in her bedroom. He shut the room door quietly behind him, and to her astonishment and trepidation, pressed the little button on the metal knob with a gloved thumb and locked it.

What was he up to?

As she stared, dumbfounded, he reached into the large pocket of his trench coat and took out a bottle of Aquaphor ointment. She inhaled audibly, unsure whether she was disappointed or relieved.

So he had found the ointment from her medical cabinet, after all.

"Does the date tomorrow mean anything to you?" Kouki continued.

Tsuruga Ren carelessly removed one of the leather gloves he donned, releasing it into his expensive coat pocket. Without further ado, he curled up his supple, muscular body languorously like a bored panther and seated himself regally on the edge of the bed next to her, then reached out and began rolling up both sleeves of her tee, revealing the reddened welts on her naked upper arms. She nearly squeaked in shock at his sudden touch, but remembered that Kouki was on the other end of the line.

"No," Kyoko said faintly to the phone, in response to Kouki's question. "I can't say it does."

Her ex-husband clicked his tongue in a disapproving manner. It was a habit he had picked up very often back during their marriage. Whenever she acted in a way that went against the proper etiquette of how a rich man's trophy wife should behave (such as talking excessively, or using swear words when she was aggravated), he would do that. She had grown to loathe that sound of heavy disapprobation—that clicking of his tongue—so much that hearing it again now sent the familiar wave of anger rushing through her lungs.

"How disappointing," Kouki censured her. "And to think my father speaks so highly of you."

Kyoko gasped. Beside her, Dr. Tsuruga arched his glossy black brows at her reaction. He had unscrewed the Aquaphor bottle, and was expertly lathering a small portion of ointment onto his spidery, long, bare fingers.

"I remember now," she said. "It's his—"

"Birthday?" Kouki concluded reprovingly. "Yes, Kyoko. And to think he insisted you go for his party tomorrow, only for you to forget his birthday completely. But of course, you must bring Maria along. She will want to see her grandfather at his dinner party."

Lory's birthday. Of course.

"So you didn't intend to invite me until he insisted?" Kyoko said coldly.

"Yes," Kouki answered indifferently. "Frankly speaking, Lina doesn't like you very much. I don't wish to upset her by having your presence there. But I suppose I have no choice since Father insisted on your invitation just now."

Kyoko, through a haze of rage, was about to snap at him that she didn't want to go, anyway, when warm, calloused digits pressed gently against the welts on her upper right arm. The chilly ointment against her sensitive wounds stung like harsh fire, and she emitted an exclamation of pain.

"I'm sorry," Ren apologized softly, his dexterous thumb caressing her alabaster skin, and she felt goosebumps erupt. "Bear with it a little more, my sweet."

His adroit fingers rubbed careful circles against her injuries, making sure not to exert too much pressure and friction against her vulnerable flesh. The precision of his fluid movements and the sheer catlike gracefulness of his large hands made her quiver. He moved to her other arm, and slowly applied the ointment there as well.

The contact of the medication against her welts still hurt, though, despite his incredible tenderness, and she clenched her teeth in discomfort.

"What is going on?" Kouki's voice reverberated suspiciously over the line. "Is that a _man's_ voice, Kyoko?"

"No," Kyoko objected quickly.

"I should hope I was imagining that," Kouki replied pointedly. "I can't think why there would be a man in the house, other than...well, I should hope it is not what I'm thinking. Be sensible now, Kyoko. We both know that you are long past the age of being able to pursue something as vapid and inane as romance a second time. Focus your efforts instead on taking care of our child now that I am gone. Don't go pursuing things that are far beyond your reach."

"I know that," Kyoko said forcefully, swallowing a hard lump in her throat. She made sure that she avoided meeting Tsuruga Ren's discerning midnight gaze. While she was sure he couldn't hear Kouki over the phone, she didn't like the shrewd look etched on his patrician profile.

"I certainly will not sit around idly if I find out that my daughter is living in a house where random men come wandering in."

"I already said it's nothing like that," Kyoko ground out stiffly, still wincing at the pain of the ointment. "How many times do I have to repeat myself?"

"Be careful how you speak to me, Kyoko," Kouki warned icily. "You've been extremely rude to me today, including when I was over at our place. I would advise that you remember never to take your custody over Maria for granted. If I want to, I can step in and take her away from you in an instant."

Dreadful, agonizing fear instantly tightened Kyoko's airways. She knew Kouki was right. With his vast fortune, he had the best attorneys and lawyers crawling at his feet. If he so desired, he could seize custody over Maria from Kyoko as easily as the act of breathing. For a long while now, Kouki had used this as a threat to force Kyoko to submit to his command in many different ways. He had imposed rules on her, even after they had divorced and separated. She was not to stay out late. She was not to go anywhere seedy. In a sense, the female would never be free from him despite his physical absence in her home. It drove her insane and kept her in the constant clutches of paranoia; her psychiatrist, Dr. Fuwa, had stated it was part of the driving force behind her depression. It was a vicious cycle. She was afraid Kouki would find out that she suffered from depression and attempt to use it in order to seize custody over Maria, and this, in turn, ironically worsened her depression. With the recollection in mind, the woman sucked in a shaky breath, and forced her voice to stay composed, ignoring Tsuruga Ren's burning scrutiny.

"Look, you've made your point. I got it. Can I hang up now?"

"I take it you have accepted the invitation, then," Kouki said. "You owe it to Maria that you go. You won't deprive her from seeing her father and grandfather, will you?"

"We're going," she replied miserably.

"Good. I will email you the details shortly, so stay alert for it. Also, before we end this conversation, Kyoko, please remember this. You may not be my wife anymore, but you are still the mother of my child, and the mother of Lory Takarada's granddaughter. Please present yourself accordingly. It is a big party tomorrow, and Father has invited guests of immense prestige. Some of them, just so you get the idea, are Hollywood stars, such as Kuu and Juliena Hizuri from the noble Hizuri clan, and their son. Kindly do not embarrass us with your crude and common traits. And try to do something to hide your age. Have a makeover, perhaps. If you can't afford one, I am willing, for the sake of my family's reputation, to cover the—"

"I got it," Kyoko interrupted numbly. Suddenly it didn't hurt anymore. The sides of her arms, anyway. "I'll see to it myself without your help. Bye."

She hung up the phone and placed it back on her bed stand.

Kyoko didn't want to go. She didn't want to go to the party. Why would she?

Going there meant she had to face the entire Takarada family. She hated them. The relatives were all accomplished, outstanding, wealthy members of the aristocratic Takarada clan. The clan had approved of Kouki's marriage to Kyoko solely because she had once been young and beautiful, despite her lack of particular achievements career-wise and that she was not of prestigious blood. However, as she aged, their impression of her began to sour due to the detoriation in her appearance, and their treatment of her took a turn for the worse. Her return to the party tomorrow night would be humiliating; everyone (not just within the Takarada family, but some of the family's friends) knew that the daughter-in-law had been abandoned by her husband for another woman—someone else who was as young and beautiful as she herself had once been during her wedding to Kouki—and the only reason she was present at the event was because of her daughter Maria.

Kyoko already knew what to expect. The moment Kyoko stepped foot into Lory's manor, Maria would become Lina and Kouki's child. Never mind that Kyoko had birthed Maria; as far as anyone was concerned, Maria Takarada was Kouki's daughter, and his current wife would thus be addressed by all the guests as Maria's mother, even if they knew it wasn't true. Kouki was proud; he would not acknowledge a fallen, aged woman as the mother of his child in front of many other important, distinguished guests. His new trophy wife would have to play the role. Lory, on the other hand, had always been extremely kind to Kyoko and would never act like that, but the other relatives' attitude was not as generous.

She abhorred it. She abhorred everything!

Kyoko jolted her head, gasping. The girl was torn from her bitter reverie when she found long, slender, male fingers abruptly gripping her own.

Comprehension dawned.

She was unconsciously doing it again, and towards the exact same areas of her body. The woman had been so caught up by the nightmarish visions inside her head that, once again, she was vehemently trying to dig her nails into the sides of her already scratched arms, just like what she had done earlier when in the bathtub. Only this time Tsuruga Ren's big hands—one gloved and one bare—enveloped her tiny ones tightly, effectively halting her attempts.

She froze.

"Now I see," he uttered wryly, "how you acquired these wounds in the first place."

A poignant, muted hush fell in the air. Kyoko struggled to find the words in response to his comment. She felt vulnerable and defensive at the same time; a part of her wanted to deny what he said, but another part longed to open up and confess that she indeed felt so wretched and desolate to the point where she was barely in control of her actions anymore.

Exuberant knocks on the door suddenly sliced through the tension, making her jump from where she sat on the edge of the bed. The surgeon did not let go of her now lowered hands, but he turned his dark head silently towards the locked door.

"Mummy? Dr. Tsuruga?" Maria's high-pitched voice squealed from the outside. "Are you in there? I'm all dressed up and ready to go!"

"Yes, sweetie!" Kyoko called out hastily, making sure that her voice gave none of her consternation away. "Dr. Tsuruga is just applying ointment on Mummy's, um, bug bites. Can you wait a few more minutes? Go and watch TV for a bit, or something. We'll be out soon!"

"Okay!" Maria said cheerfully.

It was due to her young age and naïvety that she did not sense the inappropriateness of the situation. A grown, virile man inside a woman's bedroom with the door locked while using the excuse of attending to her wounds would not have escaped any adult or teenager's attention that there was far more than met the eye. Something a little more...lascivious would appear to be underfoot. In fact, Kyoko knew she was placing herself in a very defenseless position right now. She was locked in her bedroom at the mercy of a tall man who was more than twice her size, and the only other person in the apartment unit was an eight-year-old girl. It was within their male visitor's vast physical power to effortlessly inflict whatever it was he wished against them. Yet for some reason, Kyoko did not feel worried. She was intimidated and even afraid of Tsuruga Ren, that much was true, but regardless, she was still certain of one thing.

He would not hurt Maria and herself.

Once she was sure her innocent daughter had moved away from the door, Kyoko turned her copper head to face the tall male.

"Look," she began, drawing a deep breath. "We need to talk. About my…my condition."

"Yes," Tsuruga said quietly. "We have plenty to talk about in regards to that."

Kyoko's heartbeat thudded as she took in the gorgeous outline of his long lashes. He was so close to her—in fact, his large, elegant hands were still holding hers tightly—that she could make out the perfection of his smooth skin, and the sensual, exotic slant of his lips. His silky ebony hair, which had been slicked back, further emphasized the angular, refined structure of his face. His male beauty was almost ethereal.

"You musn't tell anyone," she pleaded hushedly, her fingers trembling against his calm, reassuring ones. "If people find out about my condition, I could lose custody over Maria."

Kyoko awaited his answer with bated breath. It was difficult to decipher his expression, although his mesmerizing, smoky eyes never once wavered from her fearful brown ones.

"And the caller just now?" Dr. Tsuruga Ren inquired offhandedly, appearing otherwise unruffled.

She was slightly taken aback, but decided there was no point hiding anything from him anymore.

"That was..." Kyoko sighed weakly. She could hear the vague noises of the television blaring outside. "That was my husband."

Upon seeing his dark eyes glitter, she added hurriedly, realizing her mistake, "My former husband, I mean. Maria's father. We've been divorced for a very long time now."

"Ah. And I suppose that is to whom you might lose your custody over Maria."

She flinched. The mere plausibility of his statement coming true sent a streak of nausea running through her belly.

His countenance softened when he noticed her adverse reaction, and he sent her an almost tender look, lips quirking. She stiffened when he promptly released his grip on her diminutive hands, only to lift his nimble fingers so that he deftly unrolled the bunched-up sleeves of her tee, allowing the material to fall back over her marred upper arms.

"It is time, then, for you to decide," Tsuruga Ren mumured, his warm, almost fiery hands still lingering around her arms, eliciting the acceleration of her pulse.

"Decide?" Kyoko repeated blankly.

"Yes," he responded. "Have you—at the moment or in the past—undergone counselling or therapy?"

The inside of her chest seemed to grow cold, despite the heat of his touch.

"I have a…a psychiatrist," Kyoko said edgily.

"A psychiatrist mainly prescribes medication," Dr. Tsuruga corrected her gently. "He is not necessarily a therapist."

"Then…no," she fumbled over her words reluctantly. "I don't have a therapist."

"I see," he observed. "Very well. I will want to take a look at your medication later on. But as for now, we will talk about what you want."

"What I want?" Kyoko echoed, befuddled.

"Yes," Dr. Tsuruga said bluntly, studying her heart-shaped face intently. "This is the most important aspect before anything else. Therapy, you see, is absolutely futile if the patient does not wish for it. Do you wish to get better?"

"I…" She stared speechlessly at him. Her mouth has gone dry.

A pause.

"Are you saying that you'll help me?" Kyoko asked feebly at last. "You'll…counsel me?"

"I do not currently specialize in psychology," he acknowledged. "I chose to specialize in thoracic surgery and pediatrics instead. However, I did study psychology extensively in medical school. And hopefully it seems, starting from today…" He raised his hand and grazed the back of her blushing cheek with his knuckles. "…I will not have studied it for nothing."

Dr. Tsuruga Ren, offering her therapy himself. She couldn't wrap her head around it. Yet at the same time, it made sense, at least to her. If she wanted to keep her depression private, it was tempting that he offer her psychological aid himself without the need of a third party.

"But," Kyoko burst out, "you can't. It would be—it would—I…"

She deliberated, a frustrating, conflicting myriad of emotions building in her chest. She was terrified of having to open herself up and confide in him, but at the same time she was also tempted to just give in and have him take her under his wing. He was kind and gentle, not to mention disconcertingly charismatic. Why _wouldn't_ she want to surrender herself to him? It was beyond difficult to resist this man, anyway, with his flashing dark eyes and seductive persuasions. Before she knew it, more stray thoughts came wandering in. How many other female patients did he have? She was, after all, merely one of many women who visited the hospital. Was he also this silver-tongued and playful with other women (and as initiative of such skinship as he was with her), and did he go out of the way to pay them house calls, too? Most—if not all—of them had to be all too willing to similarly surrender themselves to him.

Anger and jealousy brewed, and she nearly reeled from the possessiveness she felt.

 _God, no!_

"I can't afford paying any more medical fees," Kyoko snapped aggressively, ducking her face away from his hand. "I'm not made of money. I have to take care of Maria's bills, too, not to mention my psychiatrist's medi—"

"I am not going to charge you."

" _What?"_ she stuttered, flabbergasted. "That's—that's ridiculous! I have to pay you!"

"Oh?"

"I won't let you do this for free," Kyoko retorted crossly. "I don't want to owe you anything."

Sculpted lips rose into a coy smile. "I am not interested in money," he stated sleekly. "But I suppose there are other ways, if you insist."

His smothering gaze flickered boldly down towards the delicate shape of her mouth, and even further south.

Kyoko's slender frame grew taut and her heart raced. It suddenly became hard to breathe, especially with the bolt of heat between her legs.

Still, she couldn't understand how, even in a sloppy tee and sweatpants, she seemed to appear desirable to him, judging by the predatory manner in which he watched her.

If anything, the wicked glint in his cognac eyes only reminded Kyoko once again about the current predicament she was in. How could the shocking intimacy of their positions have—albeit briefly—eluded her? She was sitting alone next to him (so closely that the sides of their bodies were touching) on the edge of her large, inviting double bed inside the master bedroom, and the door was locked. Although they were both fully clothed, the stifling sexual tension in the atmosphere was more than enough for her to realise that if he had his way, they would not remain clothed for long.

It was almost hilarious what the first thing that came out of her lips was.

"I'm not a prostitute," Kyoko babbled. "I don't give sexual service in exchange for benefits—"

Tsuruga Ren laughed; a rich, glorious sound.

"Oh, my darling," he said, "I can assure you that you are most definitely not a prostitute."

It was ridiculous, but she couldn't help asking. "Wh…why?"

He hummed softly. "Because, Mogami-san, if you dare to provide your—what was the term you used? Oh yes—services to anyone but myself, he or she will never see the light of the day again."

A chill ran down her spine. He sounded coldly serious, and yet at the same time casual, as if they were chatting over coffee.

Kyoko threw him a scathing look, pretending she hadn't heard the last part of his reply. "Excuse me? I'm not providing you service! Aren't you saying I'm your personal hooker, then?"

"We will see who provides the service," Dr. Tsuruga remarked silkily, "when your throat is hoarse from screaming my name."

The reaction was instantaneous.

Hot lava flooded her belly. It made her feel extremely helpless with how his words alone, spoken so politely and amiably, could elicit this level of arousal. It seemed he had somehow conditioned her sensitive body to respond to him even without his physical touch. That scared Kyoko—if she was already this responsive now, then what would happen in the event that he, as promised, made a move and claimed her? Her thighs quaked at the prospect, and she fidgeted, trying all she could not to pant. She was so desperate to conceal her arousal that the only weapon left in her arsenal was sheer antagonism.

"In your dreams!" Kyoko shot at him, praying he couldn't detect the self-conscious fluster in her demeanor. "You're nothing but a big-headed, perverted egomaniac—"

He sprung.

She let out a shrill, stunned cry when Dr. Tsuruga pushed at her shoulders, causing her slim body to fall fully backwards from her sitting position and collapse right onto the soft mattress. The copper locks of her hair rippled about the bedding like tussled petals, framing her shocked face. Before she could so much as try to get up, his large, masculine hands—one of them still gloved—were on her thin shoulders once more, pinning her down.

The contact of his skin burned like fire through the material of her tee, intensifying the similar heat simmering in her nether region.

Kyoko's doe brown eyes stared dazedly back into his impenetrable, obsidian ones. He was crouched directly atop her on the bed, his tall, sinuously muscled form towering like a predatory jungle cat above her supine body. The silk of his coat brushed against her legs.

Tsuruga Ren bent his regal head, and brought his face closer to Kyoko's.

Her heart pounded maniacally. Much as she kept pretending to resist him, she knew very well that she didn't want to. His proximity was far too addictive for her own good. The flawless, sculpted lips were now only inches away from her pink ones, and his delicious, warm breath caressed her quivering chin. She could smell the exhilarative scent of his cologne—almost taste it, even. Intoxicating dizziness swept across her vision.

Kyoko shut her eyes.

She was tired of fighting her attraction to him. She was exhausted.

At this point, she was ready to give in. It wasn't like she had the strength to fend him off, anyway.

And even if she did, she wouldn't do it.

 _I want him._

Except his lips, instead of meeting hers in that agonizing moment, tenderly pecked her forehead instead.

"I'm joking," his lush, baritone voice spoke amusedly against her ear.

Kyoko's eyes flew open in shock.

"I would never offer you a favour in exchange for a night with me. I detest the very notion. Should I ever make love to you…" And then he had released her shoulders, and moved smoothly away from the mattress. "It will be because you want me, and nothing else."

She struggled to gather the strength in her spread-eagled limbs, gaping incredulously at him from where she was now alone on the bed. "You—you—"

"I'll leave you to get changed, Mogami-san." The doctor sounded infuriatingly polite, dark eyes hooded and unrevealing. "Maria and I will be waiting for you outside."

Kyoko couldn't believe the abrupt change in his attitude. He had toyed with her as if she was some source of entertainment to him! And she had fallen right for it!

The woman clenched her fists over the sheets.

Without waiting for her reply, the male headed to the door in sure-footed strides, leaving her on the bed, and unlocked it.

Was he…was he really _leaving?_

It seemed he was.

And all Kyoko could do was gasp and stare as Tsuruga Ren disappeared past the door.

* * *

 _:tbc:_

* * *

 **A/N:** I am going through an absolutely awful time in my life right now.

Don't worry, I'll spare you guys the details. Let's just say I simply can't wait for this year to end. I know a lot of people have Christmas to look forward to, but not for me, because my family unfortunately doesn't celebrate it. So until January next year, I will be living in hell. Kind of.

Also, my laptop is dead, sobs. It has been dead for a while now. The entire four chapters of this fic, as well as half the chapters of the 'Fruit of the Pandora Box', have been written on mobile. This means I have no spellcheck, and by the way, I also do not have a beta. Therefore, if you notice any errors, please let me know! Thank you. I love you all!


	5. Chapter 5

_:Chapter 5:_

 **21 Years Ago**

Sixteen-year-old Kyoko lowered herself onto the swing in the lush, rich gardens belonging to the Takaradas. She stared, fascinated, at the tall, willowy trees around her, and the enchanting white roses fluttering in the foliage. Butterflies flickered on the pale buds. It looked almost like a kingdom in what she envisioned to be the ethereal fairy world, which, she supposed, if given enough money, was plausible to replicate. The Takaradas, being a wealthy, aristocratic clan, owned a multi-million dollar mansion, and also magnificent gardens on its vast grounds. No parks in Tokyo could match the land the Takaradas owned in beauty and abundance. Kyoko loved coming here to the garden—it was better than staying inside the suffocating manor and sitting with her boyfriend, Kouki, along with his father, and facing whichever guests they had today.

Aristocrats were such feigners. They valued social etiquette immensely, in making sure that no faux pas was made, and to present a cordial, friendly demeanor to each other. Females must sit like ladies, with their backs straight and their legs close together on the chairs, and to never talk while eating at the same time. An uttered swear word was blasphemy in a social setting where the nobility and the wealthy gathered; it was important to watch one's speech. Kyoko found it stifling and fake, since no one could express their thoughts properly without being labelled as rude. As someone from an averagely well-off family, she was unaccustomed to the proper etiquette belonging to the upper class. She knew that dating Kouki meant she would have to familiarize herself with it, as she would become part of the clan when they wedded, but right now, she was tired from a day of school, and she was in no mood to join the guests the Takaradas were entertaining right now.

The girl bobbed slightly on the swing, inhaling the sweet scent of flowers around her and tugging listlessly at the sleeve of her sweater. According to Kouki, he had said that the famous Hizuri clan was currently here at the manor as guests. Kyoko had heard of them before—they were famous stars in Hollywood, Hizuri Kuu being an A-list actor, and Juliena Hizuri being one of the world's biggest supermodels and an actress. The both of them were a powerhouse couple, and also the most iconic lovers in the entertainment industry worldwide. No movie or catwalk was the same without them. Throw in the fact that they were both of patrician background, and they were hence practically from a different level and class that Kyoko was in. Wanting to avoid seeing them—though Kyoko had never really bothered observing them on TV—she had chosen to hide here in this breathtaking garden.

Kyoko's head jerked when she saw the bushes part, the roses shaking atop the dense foliage, and then a small boy who couldn't be older than six appeared in the midst of the greenery.

Her breath caught.

He was so _pretty_. Standing in this surreal kingdom of flowers and vast land, he looked like a young fairy child himself. He had golden hair, the slightly overlong curls of corn-colored satin framing his cherubic, flawless face, and large, exotic green eyes the color of emeralds, hooded by long, fair lashes that were even longer than her own. His skin was smooth and pale like ivory, and his lips were soft and lush, like peaches and petals. With the white roses around him in the background, he appeared almost like an celestial being. There was a sublime grace in the way he ventured on the ground in baby loafers. Dressed in a small buttoned shirt and branded shorts, he was clearly a child from a wealthy family.

"Oh, my!" Kyoko cried in delight. She clasped her hands together. "You are so cute!"

The child regarded her impassively. It was difficult to tell what he was thinking.

"Would you like to sit with me on the swings?" Kyoko cajoled, gesturing to the second swing beside her. "Where is your Mummy and Daddy?"

Now that she thought about it, what was this little boy doing alone on the Takarada grounds? The Takarada clan might be large, but Kyoko was certain none of them had Caucasian blood running in their veins, as this boy clearly did. He was definitely not a Takarada.

Then… was he a Hizuri? They were here as guests today, after all.

Great. Kyoko knew she would have to hurry and bring him back to his parents. He must have snuck out of the Takarada manor and ended up here somehow.

She stood up from the swing, sandaled feet resting on the mossy ground, and continued speaking to him in a soothing tone. "Would you like me to bring you to see Mummy and Daddy? You're lost, right? Don't worry, I'll bring you—"

The boy walked right past her as if she was invisible, and moved on.

Kyoko's jaw dropped.

"Hey!" she called incredulously, adjusting the sling bag she had over her shoulder. "I'm talking to you!"

He continued ignoring her, and made his way down the winding path along the exotic leafage, the wind lifting his golden hair and making it shine like amber stars under the sunlight.

Kyoko hurried after the fairy child. This was bad. The last thing she wanted was for him to wind up lost again. The gardens were massive here; it wouldn't be the first time she herself had gotten lost, let alone a tiny child. She couldn't help the protective, maternal instincts flaring within her when she saw the boy, and planned to send him back to his parents as soon as possible. Still, how could this have happened? What kind of parents were so negligent they let their own child run loose? Kyoko didn't blame the kid—he must have been bored to tears listening to the grown-ups talk. Even Kyoko often fell asleep with her eyes open when listening to her boyfriend socialize with his sophisticated associates during events and dinners. The boy must have seized the opportunity to sneak out the manor and explore the gorgeous yard outside.

She hurried after the child, who was strolling at a surprisingly fast pace despite his outward serenity.

"Hey!" Kyoko exclaimed again, this time reaching out to gently grab his shoulder. "Where are you going? Are you running away from home?"

 _Stupid question_ , she thought, wincing. This manor wasn't even his home. If his parents were visiting, he was merely a guest here. But Kyoko had panicked, and ended up blurting nonsense impulsively.

This time, the beautiful boy answered her, in quiet, unruffled tones.

"No," he said. "I'm running away from you."

Kyoko's mouth fell open. She was instantly stung. "Excuse me? I'm trying to help you!"

"With?" the boy inquired coolly. He was so short he hardly reached her hips.

"You're lost, right? I can show you the way back—"

"And what," the little boy asked amusedly, "makes you think I was lost, and needed help from someone like you?"

Kyoko pursed her lips, then reached over and pinched his round, smooth cheek. The child's verdant eyes flew fully open in slight pain and utter shock, and his tiny hands reached up and grasped her wrist, trying to shake her off to no avail.

"Don't think because you're cute you can be rude to me!" Kyoko scolded him angrily, still pinching his cheek so that his pretty face looked almost comical. "Haven't your parents taught you to speak properly to those older than you? If you didn't need my help, you could have just told me instead of ignoring me and running away!"

She let him go at last, huffily watching the otherworldly child as he rubbed his now pink cheek. It was hard to read his thoughts; the astonishment and indignation in his profile had faded away to be replaced by a blank expression.

"And what do you mean, from 'someone like me'?" Kyoko demanded. "What's wrong with me, huh?"

"You're old." His childlike voice was solemn. "I don't like adults."

Kyoko's instinctive reaction was to yell at him for calling her old when she was only sixteen. Then she remembered reading somewhere that Juliena Hizuri had been in her late teens—or somewhere around the age of eighteen—when she had delivered her firstborn with Kuu; aristocrats often got married very early in their lives due to the method of arranged marriages, though Kyoko wasn't sure if that was the case for Hollywood's most famous item (but Kyoko knew that they had been acting and modelling in showbiz since they were mere kids themselves). If that was the case, and if this boy was really only six years old, then Juliena Hizuri was less than ten years older than Kyoko herself. In this kid's perspective, she must look barely younger than his mother.

"Why, er, don't you like adults?" Kyoko asked hesitantly.

"They tell me what to do." The fairy boy kicked a stone away from the ground. It flew to the trees nearby, hitting the tree trunk with a soft thud. "They tell me what to feel."

"What to feel?" Kyoko echoed.

He watched her for a brief heartbeat, then spoke.

"My parents' profession is acting," the fairy boy said distantly. "They've been acting in Hollywood since they were my age. And they want me to do the same thing as them now, and join Hollywood as a child actor."

So she was right. He was Kuu and Juliena's child.

Kyoko shrugged. "And you don't want to?"

"That's not what I mean," the child answered. He was studying a striped butterfly that was resting on a flowerbud nearby. As Kyoko watched, stunned, he gently extended an adroit finger, smiling slightly, and the insect hopped weakly from the rose and onto his slender, small digit.

"What I mean is," he continued, "I don't know what I want. But I hate the idea of doing something that I'm told to do when I don't even know whether I want it."

"Well," Kyoko said slowly, "then you can always try it out first, then see how it goes. Find something that makes you happy. Who knows? Maybe acting will make you happy."

The golden-haired child didn't answer her, and she realised that he was still observing the butterfly on his finger. Then suddenly, he lowered himself to his feet, and placed the striped butterfly atop a stray twig on the ground. With his diminutive knees drawn to himself as he crouched down beside the insect, he appeared more innocent and vulnerable than ever.

"What's wrong?" Kyoko asked, crouching down beside him.

"It's dying," he replied quietly, sounding broken inside. Her heart instantly went out to him.

"That's not true," Kyoko told him kindly. "You don't know that."

But upon taking a closer look, Kyoko noticed how unmoving the insect was. Its radiant, blue striped wings were stirring faintly, but other than that it was very still from where it lay feebly on the twig. It must have taken considerable effort for the weakened butterfly to hop from the rose onto the boy's hand earlier.

"Wait," Kyoko told the boy, and she reached into her sling bag and took out something from the front pocket: an orange. She peeled the orange apart quickly, dropping the thick layer of skin into her bag, and pulled out a small portion of the juicy, succulent fruit, before holding it out to the butterfly. She made sure she extended her hand far enough so that the butterfly could access the orange slices without moving too much. The bright wings flickered, its proboscis attaching itself onto the delicious fruit.

"This won't save it, right?" the fairy boy said sadly, his emerald eyes misting over.

"No," Kyoko told him gently. "But we can make it happy before it passes."

"That's not good enough," the boy countered calmly, his voice almost cold. "I want you to save it."

"I can't do that," Kyoko sighed. "I wish I could, but I don't know how."

The blond boy looked incredulous. "What's the point of being an adult when you can't even save a butterfly?"

Kyoko laughed. "Just because we're adults doesn't mean we can do everything. There are some things we specialize in and some things we don't. I bet even your parents, as amazing as they are, wouldn't know how to save this butterfly too."

There was a pregnant pause. Then the boy spoke.

"This will make me happy."

"What?" Kyoko said, puzzled.

"You asked me to find what would make me happy. It would make me happy if the butterfly could be saved," the fairy child said softly.

Kyoko blinked, then gave a small smile. "I meant as a career. Would it make you happy to become a famous star in Hollywood like your parents?"

"I don't know. It might." She noticed the apathy was back in his cherubic features. He was so damned perfect-looking that he appeared to be the physical embodiment of a young angel. "It would make Father and Mother happy."

"But would it make _you_ happy?" she pressed, even though he wasn't looking at her. He was still examining the dying butterfly that was feeding on the orange slice in her hand.

"Save the butterfly," he repeated dully, still not looking away from the insect.

"Maybe it's dying of old age," Kyoko said kindly. "If that's the case, there's nothing we can do."

The fairy child looked up. "What do you mean?"

"We all die of old age someday," she explained. "It's part and parcel of life. There's nothing you can do about it, and you have to understand that's perfectly alright."

"Does that mean…" The boy's thickly-lashed eyes were round as saucers. "Father and Mother…?"

"Yes," Kyoko answered, reaching over to pat his gold curls. She couldn't deny how oddly protective she was of him. "But what you can do is make sure they stay healthy and live to a ripe old age. Don't you agree?"

The fairy boy looked hesitant. "I…"

She moved, withdrawing her hand that was holding the partially eaten orange slice, and the butterfly's wings fluttered indignantly. In response, she cautiously picked up the twig with the butterfly atop it from the earthy ground, and straightened up, still clutching the orange slices in her other hand. Then she motioned silently at the boy to take the twig from her.

Rising to his feet as well, he carefully took the twig and cradled it in his hands, making sure not to jostle the fallen butterfly. It was clearly so frail that it was unable to fly off now—its wings simply fluttered again and again, but it could not take flight.

"Bring it to your Mummy and Daddy," Kyoko said.

His emerald-green eyes, hooded by those devastating golden lashes, were immediately hopeful. "You think they can save it?"

"No, sweetie," Kyoko responded, smiling slightly. "I don't know if they can save it. But what I really want for you to do is to show them the butterfly. Tell them that saving its life means something to you. And that as a career, maybe acting doesn't appeal to you as much as they think it does. Maybe you want to try something else, something that'll make you happy, like saving a little butterfly's life. And think about what we talked today. You might be too young now to grasp anything, but one day, it will come to you."

The fairy boy looked confused. "But…"

"Trust me, okay?" Kyoko said warmly. "Or are you saying you don't trust me?"

The blond boy looked at her, his perfect, ethereal face inscrutable, those plush lips pressed in a severe line that seemed rather mature for a child. She was beginning to regret asking him that, seeing the coolness in his extraordinary malachite eyes, but then, the fairy boy did something she completely was not expecting.

He blushed.

* * *

"Mummy? Mummy!"

Kyoko jolted in her seat, torn from her reverie. She looked up from where she had been staring at the edge of the dining table, and gazed into the large, sienna eyes of her eight-year-old daughter sitting next to her.

"What were you thinking about, Mummy?" she asked.

Kyoko gave Maria a watery smile, and glanced to the cashier counter some distance away from them, where Tsuruga Ren was placing his orders for their meal.

They were currently in a Mexican food joint for Kyoko's belated lunch and Maria's 'dessert'; Dr. Tsuruga had driven them there. It had been awkward, to say the least, when she had left her bedroom after changing into a pair of jeans and a blouse. Kyoko had been furious with herself—she'd let him string her along back in her room, having fallen utterly under his spell, and had even been willing to kiss him, should he have initiated a kiss. That was how far gone she was. Kyoko knew all along that being around him was dangerous; she would definitely end up succumbing to his magnetism and falling head over heels for him eventually. Then Tsuruga Ren had withdrawn from where he had been crouched above her at the last minute on her bed, and she realised with horror that she had been duped. It had taken everything she had to gather the remains of her shattered pride; to get back to her feet and change into more appropriate clothing since they were heading out. Kyoko figured he wasn't going to leave her alone until he took them out to eat, and so she decided to go along with his plans until he was satisfied.

And no, it was definitely not because she liked having him around…

Kyoko had defiantly avoided eye contact with the surgeon throughout the car ride in his SUV, much to his amusement, and had instead stared fixedly out the car window as Maria chattered delightedly to him from where she sat strapped to the back of the car together with her mother. Kyoko had to admit he was very good with children—his deep, silky voice was gentle as he answered and entertained numerous of her inquisitive questions, such as if he was he married like her 'Mummy and Daddy' had once been (his reply was a negative), or did he have kids like herself (again, no), and if he enjoyed being a doctor (yes). Dr. Tsuruga never belittled Maria, like some adults did with children, and was very patient. Kyoko almost wished her daughter would ask him more questions, because loathe as she was to admit it, she was very curious about his life. But then again, she felt guilty for taking advantage of her daughter that way.

Dr. Tsuruga had asked them where they would like to go for lunch, and when Kyoko stubbornly said she was fine with anything and refused to give a suggestion, he had asked Maria instead, who, much to Kyoko's aggravation, said her mother had passed by a particular Mexican food joint once and expressed her desire to eat there one day. The surgeon had asked Maria for the specific name of the restaurant, then commenting that he had dined there a few times before—with the company of other women, Kyoko surmised jealously, since it was a well-known, perfect spot for dates and it was unlikely he had gone there alone—and then they were on the way.

"I was thinking about this little boy I once met," Kyoko said now at the diner, in response to Maria's query. "He was around the same age as you are now, sweetie, but maybe a little younger."

It was odd, how the memory of the Hizuri fairy child had abruptly surfaced in her mind after years without thinking about him. It must be Kouki's invitation that was the cause of it, since her ex-husband had mentioned that the famous and wealthy Hizuris were invited to Lory's birthday banquet tomorrow. Kyoko couldn't help but wonder how that fairy child had turned out now. She was most likely going to see the boy again tomorrow, and what a sorry sight she was going to appear to be, assuming he remembered her anyway. Although her encounter with him took place decades ago, the image of his large green eyes, angelic fair cheeks, and golden curls seared vividly through her mind.

"Do you think he'll play with me?" Maria said eagerly. "I don't have anyone to play with at home."

Kyoko laughed, though her laughter was tinged with sadness. "Maybe not, sweetie," she cooed. "He's all grown up now. In fact, you might see him tomorrow."

She looked up and tensed as Tsuruga Ren approached them, carrying a tray of mouth-watering food. As much she wanted to pretend not to like any of the dishes, she couldn't deny that she was starving, and that the juicy quesadillas (coated with layers of mayo and avocado sauce), crispy tortilla chips, small plastic cups of red salsa, and a bottle of orange juice—that he'd gotten for Maria—looked amazing. He'd declined all her attempts to pay for their orders, and she made a mental note to slip the dollar notes in his satchel when he wasn't looking later. The tall, dark-haired man placed the tray down, smiling slightly as Maria began jumping in her chair excitedly.

Kyoko blinked when her daughter abruptly vacated her chair and bolted over to where Dr. Tsuruga sat opposite them. "What are you doing, sweetie?"

"I want to sit next to Dr. Tsuruga!" Maria declared jubilantly, lowering her frock-clad body on the seat beside the doctor.

Tsuruga Ren laughed, and Kyoko shivered at the sensuous, deep sound. He picked up the orange juice and unscrewed the bottle cap for the little girl, before passing the container to her. "I'm flattered, Maria."

She knew she ought to be more stung that her daughter had chosen to sit next to the doctor rather than with her, but for some reason, Kyoko felt oddly affectionate inside instead. Although slightly mortifying, Kyoko was reluctantly glad that her daughter adored Dr. Tsuruga so much. There weren't a lot of adults Maria could feel comfortable around with and confide in, not even her own distant father.

"I was saying to Mummy that I want someone to play with," Maria chattered to him, slurping the juice from her bottle. "All my classmates have younger sisters and brothers!" She gave her mother a childishly reproachful look. "How come I don't have any, Mummy?"

Kyoko dipped a tortilla chip into the opened plastic cup of salsa and offered it to Maria. "Open up, sweetie."

"No, but really," Maria insisted solemnly, taking the tomato-covered chip from her mother. "How come I don't have a baby brother or sister? Mummy, can you have another baby so I can play with him?"

Kyoko's face turned pink, and she stared pointedly at her quesadillas, picking up a plastic spoon from the plate and scooping one up. She made sure not to look in a certain doctor's direction. "That's enough, Maria. We'll talk about this when we get home."

"Ah, but it can get lonely as a single child," Tsuruga Ren murmured. "I quite understand Maria's feelings on the matter."

Kyoko's breath caught. Was Tsuruga Ren implying he had been a single child too?

Forcing away the curiosity bubbling in her chest, Kyoko stuffed the quesadilla into her mouth, chewing at the delicious texture of sauces and chicken mingling her tongue.

"Dr. Tsuruga, you agree with me, right?" Maria asked at once, pleased that her idol seemed to sympathize with her.

"Of course," he answered gently. "But you must also understand, Maria, that women over the age of thirty-five expose themselves to bigger health risks when they expect another child. So you mustn't impose this on your mother, alright?"

Maria's eyes were round. "Really?"

Kyoko's hand tightened over her black plastic spoon. So he knew she was older than thirty-five. It wouldn't be hard for him to find out her age since her identification documents were listed in Maria's patient records in the hospital system. However, she had a sinking feeling he had derived her age just from seeing her appearance. The nurse that had been accompanying him earlier had called Kyoko _old_ , after all. It was humiliating; she suddenly felt self-conscious and sick. What were the other patrons in the restaurant thinking right now, anyway, seeing this woman in her late thirties eating with a man in his twenties? Did they think she was a cradle robber, that she was some gold-digging cougar? Life was unfair in that sense. Society was fine with an older man seeing a younger woman (Kouki and Lina were a prime example), and they might even praise the man for scoring a young female, but when the dynamics were reversed, people would criticize and judge. Not that she and Dr. Tsuruga had that sort of relationship, but still. She didn't even dare look up from her table right then to see the faces around her.

A large, masculine hand abruptly laid over her own tinier one that had been resting on the edge of the table. It was so big that it completely enveloped hers, and her pulse grew erratic at the warmth of his touch. The girl wondered if he could feel it.

"Are you alright?" Tsuruga Ren inquired softly. She jerked her head upwards, her hazel eyes meeting his exotic, obsidian ones.

"Yeah," Kyoko said shakily, aware that a curious Maria was watching. "It's nothing."

"Was it about the topic of children?" Ren said quietly. He still hadn't let go of her hand, and was tenderly stroking the back of it with a calloused thumb. It sent tingles down her spine.

"No, I just..." She swallowed a lump on her throat, though she wasn't sure if it was just leftover traces of chicken from her quesadilla. Then, without thinking at all, she blurted, "Do you want kids?"

The corners of his sculpted lips rose in an amused smile.

"Yes," Dr. Tsuruga responded bluntly. "But that is a topic for the both of us to address another day."

 _The both of us._

Kyoko didn't miss the implication in his words. Should he ever have children of his own one day, he wanted her involved. She highly doubted it was because he wanted her as a midwife, or something. Besides, _he_ was the medical professional here, not her. Thinking back to her delivery of Maria was bittersweet; Kouki hadn't showed up at all throughout the whole time she went into labour, having been away on an overseas business trip. He had only showed up several days after Maria was born. Kyoko remembered how lonely she had been, and how terrified. She'd awoken in the middle of the night to find her bed sheets soaked. It didn't take her long to realise that her water had broken almost a month early. The girl had attempted to call her husband on his private line, only for his secretary to pick up and inform her severely that he was in a meeting and was not to be disturbed (there was a time difference from where he was in the US), and then had hung up on Kyoko before she could get another word in. Kyoko, in a state of terror and near hysterics, had forced herself to crawl out of bed at three a.m. and change into proper clothing. She would never forget the fear she had felt then—and how alone she had been. A tearful Kyoko, her massively rounded body bundled up in a woolly coat, had waddled several darkened streets away from her block before she managed to hail a cab to the hospital.

Her labour had been lonely, painful, and frightening. As Maria was her firstborn, it had lasted for fourteen long hours, way more than the average time for a first-time mother, which should have only been around eight hours. There had been so many complications, such as the fact that Maria was in a breech position from inside her womb instead of being head-down (and that she was also premature), involved that her obstetrician had at the last minute gone with a C-section instead of a normal delivery, which had been the original plan. Despite her epidural, Kyoko couldn't stop crying, much to the alarm of her doctors. She was just so _scared_ , and the fact that her only family—Kouki—was away in another country didn't help.

The woman's head abruptly jerked as she came back to the present, and she met concerned dark eyes.

"Mummy?" Maria squeaked, from next to the surgeon. Her small mouth was stained orange from her juice.

"Sorry, I…" Kyoko stood up, wrenched her hand violently away from Tsuruga Ren's grip, and picked up her handbag, her fingers trembling. "I need to use the washroom for a bit. I'll be right back. You guys enjoy the meal."

She had barely taken a few hurried steps away from the table when Dr. Tsuruga's velvety, baritone voice said gently, "The washroom is in the opposite direction from where you are going, Mogami-san."

Her face flushing in embarrassment, the slender woman turned around and practically sprinted to the back of the restaurant, acutely aware of his unblinking, shrewd, midnight eyes burning into her retreating back.

* * *

Kyoko stared disbelievingly at the red splotches coating the inside of her panties, which she had tugged down to around her knees.

Sitting on the porcelain throne inside one of the small cubicles of the restaurant's washroom, she could only lament why God seemed determined to punish her. As much as she wanted to ignore it, the sight of the splotched blood on her otherwise white panties was undeniable. It was her own fault, really. She hadn't been keeping track of her cycles lately on her calendar, being too preoccupied, and now as she desperately counted the days dating back from her last period, she realised with mounting horror that it has been somewhat over a month since then. Kyoko couldn't just ignore this. Her first and second days were frequently her heaviest days during her single week of menstruation. If she chose to leave it alone, she would stain her jeans—thankfully she wore dark ones today—sooner or later, and the last thing she wanted was for Dr. Tsuruga spotting her stains. She highly doubted seeing a woman's menstrual stains would freak him out, seeing as he was a surgeon and often caught more than just a mere eyeful of blood at the surgery theater but she could never live it down if if he saw.

However, the issue here was that Kyoko hadn't brought any tampons or sanitary pads along in her handbag, which was hanging off a hook on the back of the cubicle door. She hadn't expected her damned period to arrive today. Refusing to let her growing panic get the best of her, Kyoko's mind raced as she contemplated her next move. She had passed by this Mexican restaurant several times before because there were a lot of shops that she liked to visit located right next door. Her pulse quickened when she remembered that a drugstore was situated right at the back of the restaurant. If everything went well, she could hurry out undetected by Dr. Tsuruga and Maria from the restroom and exit the backdoor of the Mexican food joint, then go to the pharmacy next door and purchase her supplies. Since the restroom was practically beside the backdoor, she could leave without being noticed by anyone. With her mind made up, she got to her feet and hastily pulled up her jeans. There was no time to waste. She had already taken a long enough time as it was; Dr. Tsuruga was going to think she had an upset stomach at this rate.

Two minutes later, a furtive-looking Kyoko was pacing around the aisles of the drugstore, searching around for the women's section. It didn't take her long to find it. She grabbed her favorite brand of tampons from the shelf and was about to bring the few packets to the cashier counter when a man stepped into view on the granite floor, blocking her. Her ochre eyes widened at the familiar sight.

Spiky, gelled blonde hair. The multiple stud earrings lining his earlobes. The black leather coat, and ripped, skinny jeans.

"Dr. Fuwa?" Kyoko said incredulously.

Her psychiatrist was always eccentric, she knew. Many years ago he had opened a private, mental wellness clinic that had done extremely well, since there were many patients who didn't like the alternate option of visiting hospitals with their cases, like Kyoko herself. A hospital record listing a mental illness was the last thing some patients wanted, since they wished to hide their conditions from family members and friends, and maybe even from their general practitioners. For Kyoko's case, she was scared to death if Kouki, with his vast influence and resources, secretly tracked her hospital records and discovered that she had been receiving treatment for her bout of depression. He would seize custody over Maria in a heartbeat if he deemed that she was too unwell and unfit to take care of Maria. As a result, a low-profile, mental wellness clinic provided the privacy that she so needed.

The clinic's success was also attributed to Dr. Fuwa's oozing, unconventional sex appeal. He didn't dress like typical medical practitioners—he wore whatever the hell he wanted during work hours, being the owner of his own clinic. Kyoko would have doubted his Doctor of Medicine degree if not the fact that his certificate, with his name clearly etched on it, was framed on the wall of the clinic lounge. And despite his outward appearance, he was a very talented psychiatrist for having effectively helped many of his patients. Thanks to his stunning looks and success rate, many women flocked to him like bees to honey. He was infamous for seducing and striking up fleeting relationships with his beautiful female patients and his staff, who were coincidentally (yeah, right) all attractive, young women.

Kyoko knew she was far from attractive already at her age, though it wasn't as if she cared what he thought of her. Her disinterest in him was very evident, which surprisingly only piqued his attention. They shared an almost frenemy relationship, where she hated his constant remarks about how plain and old she looked, and his blunt, untactful way of giving her advice ("Get over your self-pity bullshit already"). The only reason she kept seeing him was that his medication kept her depression at bay. Without it, her condition was even worse. And sometimes, much as Kyoko hated to admit it, she knew his harsh and callous advice was sound.

Kyoko wasn't sure whether he liked her at all—he enjoyed occasionally forcing her to join him in meals outside of the medical consultation room, but she suspected it was just because he liked tormenting her, and not because it was a date, or anything like that. There was nothing romantic about their dinner outings; it was like two rivals duking it out over the dining table, where they exchanged jibes as they ate. Dr. Fuwa was never gentle or kind or seductive to her like he was with the other younger women he met. He was nasty, rude, and condescending, and he always made her pay the bill. How many times had Kyoko dined with him, only for the psychiatrist to leave halfway to meet some other woman? The only reason she had agreed to eat with him was because she didn't want to piss him off to the point where he might stop treating her. She needed the effective medication he prescribed and the privacy and confidentiality his treatment provided against Kouki. She didn't want to go through the nightmare of searching for another low-profile, mental wellness clinic around Tokyo, then starting her treatment all over again. It wasn't easy for her to confide all her burdens and fears and worries to anybody once more.

"What are you doing here?" Dr. Fuwa asked, arching a blond brow at the packets of tampons she was carrying.

"I should be asking you that," Kyoko snapped, slightly embarrassed at the tampons she was openly holding in front of him. "This is the women's section."

He shrugged, his leather coat crinkling over his broad shoulder. "I thought I saw you."

"Yeah, well, you saw me, so bye," Kyoko said curtly, trying to hide her anxiety. She needed to go back to the restaurant soon before Tsuruga Ren and Maria sensed something amiss. "Now move aside so I can make payment."

Fuwa shifted aside, letting her pass through, but he trailed after her as she approached the counter.

"I heard about it," he said.

"Heard what?"

"The famous Lory Takarada is throwing an extravagant birthday banquet tomorrow night," Sho answered nonchalantly. "It's all over the news."

Kyoko scowled as she passed the money to the cashier. "So what?"

"You're going, aren't you?" he drawled. "Lory likes you. He'd want you there for his birthday."

Kyoko stiffened. The only reason he knew so much about her personal life—meaning her relationship with Lory—was because she had told him during her consultations. A fact she was starting to regret now, she realised.

"What's your point?" she said stiffly, accepting the blue plastic carrier bag containing her tampons from the cashier, along with the receipt, which she stuffed into the plastic.

"You're gonna feel fucking humiliated tomorrow night. The unwanted mother of Kouki Takarada's daughter lingering there at the banquet. The aged woman everyone knows Kouki cheated on and threw aside like a crumpled tissue, who is only there because of Maria."

"Get lost, you bastard," Kyoko said angrily, trying to suppress the tremor in her voice.

"Invitees can bring a plus-one."

"You're not…" Kyoko gave a bitter exclamation of a laugh. "You want me to invite _you_?"

"Yeah," Fuwa Sho said unashamedly. "It's a win-win for the both of us. You won't lose as much face when you bring along a stud of a partner like myself, because trust me, honey, standing there alone for the whole night while watching your husband and mistress parade around in front of you is way worse. And as your psychiatrist, you're gonna need my help if you don't want to get an attack in front of Kouki. You want to keep your condition a secret from him, don't you?"

Kyoko's hands tightened over her plastic bag. He was right. All the triggers to one of her attacks were present tomorrow. Kouki. Lina, who was no doubt going to monopolize Maria for the whole night and assume the role as her 'mother' while shoving Kyoko into the background, where she belonged. The sneering contempt from all their rich associates and relatives. Her existence there at the party tomorrow was just to be everyone's laughingstock. It would be a miracle if she could survive the night without falling prey to another attack like today—a momentary spell of withdrawal where she was no longer able to think or feel or care, where, in her perspective, she was sucked into the emptiness that was the Hole. And if Kouki witnessed Kyoko undergoing an attack, she could kiss her custody over Maria goodbye.

She needed Fuwa Sho's assistance tomorrow.

"How about you?" Kyoko demanded tersely. "You said it was a win-win situation. What do you stand to gain from this?"

"The hot chicks there, duh," he replied flippantly, his ringed hands in his leather pockets. "It's a huge VIP party where the hottest supermodels and actresses are invited. And I want my ticket to that paradise, which in this case, is you."

Kyoko glared at him. "I'll think about it, you perv."

"Now, don't be jealous," Fuwa quipped. "There's plenty of me to go around. And make up your mind now, Kyoko. We all know you're gonna say yes either way. You need me more than I need you."

Kyoko furiously gave him the finger, and then, without staying around to see his reaction, strode rapidly past the parting automatic glass doors of the drugstore with her blue plastic bag in hand.

She didn't have time left. Crap. How long had she been in the drugstore talking with Sho? Tsuruga Ren probably thought by now that she was stranded in the toilet cubicle, having explosive diarrhea, or something. Not the kind of image she wanted to portray to the man she was infatuated with, and she cringed just thinking of the excuses she would have to fabricate to him later.

Kyoko hurried towards the backdoor of the Mexican restaurant, all the while tearing open the packet of tampons inside her plastic carrier bag. She kept the handles of the blue plastic carrier hanging from her wrist as she tugged at the nearest tampon inside the now-opened packet, not wanting to waste any more time than was necessary.

A large, masculine hand clasped her elbow suddenly, halting her movements.

"For God's sake, Fuwa, leave me alone already!" Kyoko shouted wrathfully, frustrated that she was being prevented from reaching her destination when it was so close. She flung the torn-open packet of tampons at him in a fit of rage. "I said let me think about it, you son of a—"

She stopped short in horror as she found herself face-to-face with Dr. Tsuruga Ren, who was holding a stunned Maria's little hand beside him. The packet of tampons she had thrown had spilled its contents all over him, the cylinder outlines of cotton tampons rolling down the luxurious material of his expensive, branded beige coat, and falling to his polished leather shoes. The doctor swiftly caught a tampon with a dexterous, long-fingered hand, examining the object amusedly with clinical interest, the sides of his perfect lips quirking upwards.

And as Kyoko stared helplessly into his laughing, intelligent dark eyes, she wanted nothing more for the second time of the day to find a hole to bury herself in.

* * *

 _:tbc:_

* * *

 **A/N:** Hi, guys! Late update is late. I apologize for the immense delay Chapter Five has taken. To be honest, I noticed there was a significant drop in reviews when the previous chapter just came out, so I assumed everyone's interest in this fic was waning, hence my muse kind of suffered as a result.

But when I updated the 'Fruit of the Pandora Box' earlier, some of you mentioned this fic, which really gladdened me! I will say this, though: I haven't abandoned this story, and I've in fact planned out a great deal for this fic, because I am a plotter, not a pantser. As far as the outline I've plotted goes at the moment, StretchMarks!Ren won't be as dark or yandere as FruitofthePandoraBox!Ren is. So just a little insight for you guys.

So thanks to everyone who reviewed. I love all of you.


	6. Chapter 6

_:Chapter 6:_

Kyoko sat on a chair next to Maria's bed, watching her young daughter sleep from where she lay beneath her thick comforter. The moonlight streaming through Maria's bedroom windows illuminated her askew chestnut curls on the pillow.

The mother sighed silently to herself. Her throat felt slightly sore, since she had just sung Maria to sleep. From the moment when Maria was just a mere newborn, Kyoko had been singing lullabies to her during bedtime every night. Maria loved her mother's soothing, dulcet voice, and while Kyoko knew she was spoiling her child by singing her to sleep now up to her current age, she ignored it. Maria was already suffering for having to put up with a mentally ill and unstable mother, not to mention an absent father—this was the least Kyoko could do. Lullabies were startlingly effective in sending her daughter to sleep; because of that, unlike most difficult babies who seemed allergic to slumber, it helped Kyoko ease her then-baby daughter into her cot every night without having to put up with too much of a resistance from Maria. And Kyoko had been so lonely then (and she still was), since her husband had left her shortly after she gave birth, that singing those melodious lullabies were all she could do to keep tears from breaking out.

Her life was so fucking miserable sometimes.

Kyoko blanched suddenly.

The events earlier this afternoon abruptly flooded back to her head, on how she had, on an aggrieved whim, flung an opened packet of _tampons_ at Dr. Tsuruga Ren. Groaning under her breath at the recollection, she wanted nothing more than to curl up and die in a hole somewhere.

Kyoko would never forget that awkward, mortifying, silent moment where not one person spoke, not even Maria, who had been clutching a plastic carrier bag of her own, for some reason. Tsuruga Ren simply stood there, holding one of Maria's little hands in his large one, and observed a single, fallen piece of tampon elevated between the long, deft fingers of his other hand, his expression filled with coy intrigue and his dark eyes dancing with amusement. Numerous tampons, which had rolled off his expensive clothes, littered on the ground around his leather shoes.

Maria was the first one to break the heavy silence.

"Mummy?" she asked curiously. "What's all these white thingies?"

Kyoko winced. "Don't look, sweetie! They… They're just..." Her words—futile as they were—came out in an uneasy, humiliated stammer.

Then Dr. Tsuruga started laughing.

Kyoko stared at the doctor disbelievingly, feeling her pulse race at the rich, sultry, glorious rumble at the back of his throat, his chuckles transcending merrily into full-on laughter. And although Maria had no idea what was going on, she began to giggle as well thanks to the contagiousness of his mirth. Kyoko looked incredulously at the both of them as they laughed and laughed. What a sight the both of them must look; a tall, grown man and a petite, eight-year-old girl caught in a fit of merriment, with, of all things, unused tampons pooling around their feet on the pavement. They were fortunate that at this hour—since it was way past lunchtime—there were little to no passer-byers visiting the restaurants and diners to witness their current state. But somehow the absurdity of their predicament struck her deeply, and Kyoko couldn't help it anymore. This was past the stage of her embarrassment now, and she wasn't sure what to feel at this point. Unexpectedly, she began cracking up as well, overwhelmed by the hilarity of just… everything.

Kyoko hadn't laughed this hard for a very, very long time. She wasn't forcing it at all. All her emotions—mortification, chagrin, melancholy, happiness—just bubbled uncontrollably in her chest and expelled from her mouth in the form of laughter. It was even better and more therapeutic than crying. The three of them spent God knew how long laughing by the backdoor of the Mexican restaurant, with fallen tampons lying ridiculously all around them.

Eventually, their laughter faded away, and Dr. Tsuruga flashed ivory-white, even teeth at Kyoko.

"Thank you," he said softly.

She was taken aback, and her voice, slightly surprised, came out hoarse from all her chortling earlier. "What for?"

"For entertaining me all this time," Dr. Tsuruga answered simply. Maria was still giggling beside him. "I have not laughed like this in a long while, not with anyone."

A mild flush suffused Kyoko's cheeks. She wasn't going to tell him she felt the exact same way, and that he had practically voiced her thoughts about how long it had been since she had laughed like this herself. Kyoko was sure even Maria hadn't enjoyed herself this much before, and this was coming from an eight-year-old, as joyous and cheerful as she was by nature, who loved laughing. Still, Kyoko wasn't too happy that Tsuruga Ren found her a source of entertainment and comic relief to him at the expense of her own pride. While she had laughed as well and consequently felt more light-hearted and less burdened right now, it was still deathly embarrassing. Was this why he was interested in her? Not just because he wanted to… _bone_ her, for lack of a better term, but also because he liked all the times she had made a fool out of herself? Kyoko remembered what had happened back at the consultation room, when Maria had unknowingly revealed her bedroom activities to Dr. Tsuruga, much to her chagrin. And then today, there had been the dildo fiasco, and last of all, what was happening right now.

The bouyancy she was feeling from her laughter just now began to die away. She felt insulted and stung. So much for hoping he would see her as a sophisticated, attractive woman—she was basically a joke to him that he could never get enough of.

"Do you have more packets in your carrier?" Tsuruga Ren's baritone voice murmured, interrupting her thoughts.

Kyoko jumped a little. "Ye—yes."

"Good. Use those," he said calmly. "The ones here…" He gestured gracefully at the tampons strewn on the conrete. "…are quite obviously not appropriate for usage anymore."

The mild flush on her heart-shaped face deepened in color.

What was she getting all worked up for, anyway? All Tsuruga Ren had to do was look at the purchased tampons Kyoko was carrying and then at the pharmacy located right next door to the restaurant, and he could easily solve the mystery behind what Kyoko had been up to throughout the (undoubtedly long) time she had excused herself to go to the washroom.

"We need to clean this up," Kyoko said hastily, gesturing to the mess on the pavement.

"Go to the restroom and take care of yourself first. Maria and I will clear this up," Dr. Tsuruga said softly. He smiled fondly at the child beside him, squeezing her hand. "Isn't that so, Maria?"

Kyoko really had to give it to her daughter. Although Maria was still clearly confused as to what was going on, she was too eager to please her idol to question his suggestion.

"Yes!" Maria beamed brightly, her chestnut curls bobbing. "Maria will help!"

Kyoko, not knowing what else to say or how to resist, had weakly informed them that she would be back in a minute, still flushing.

When the mortified woman returned later, having taken care of her womanly needs with the second packet of the tampons in her plastic carrier (she was truly thanking her lucky stars that she had bought more than one packet at the drugstore earlier), the surgeon and Maria had picked up all the fallen tampons and deposited them into the garbage bin just conveniently situated nearby on the pavement. Their combined teamwork, coupled with Maria's childish enthusiasm, made for an efficient and speedy process, since there wasn't a single tampon left over on the ground when she got back. It was so horrifying to have Tsuruga Ren clearing her tampons for her. Keen to change the cringe-worthy topic, Kyoko had tenderly thanked her daughter with a pat on her head and then hastily asked the doctor why he had left the restaurant with Maria. Dr. Tsuruga had explained, the corner of his lips quirking with knowing amusement, that he had noted the lengthy time of her absence by the dining table, and had, out of concern, asked a waiter if he had seen Kyoko going into the ladies'. The waiter had then answered that he had seen a female with Kyoko's physical descriptions—as supplied by Dr. Tsuruga—leave the restaurant through the backdoor.

Somewhat worried, Dr. Tsuruga had asked the restaurant factotum to wrap up Kyoko's remaining quesadillas (though not the tortilla chips and salsa sauce, since Maria had devoured all of that), and the little girl had insisted to help take the carrier containing Kyoko's food package. Then the pair had exited the Mexican restaurant through the backdoor as well in search for the missing woman.

Kyoko had really wanted to die even more after hearing his narration.

As if sensing her embarrassment, Dr. Tsuruga had prompted gently that he should drive them home, since he was needed soon at the hospital. Kyoko had tried to pay him back again for the meal, but he politely refused her money, much to her frustration.

She sighed now from where she sat on her chair next to a sleeping Maria.

Kyoko couldn't lie to herself. She felt disappointed.

She felt petulantly disappointed that Tsuruga Ren had driven them home right afterwards instead of spending more time with them. She was such a hypocrite, she knew, since she had shown such defiance and irritation when he had taken them out for lunch in the first place. But it had all been an act from the start, an act that was the complete opposite of her genuine sentiments. She didn't show how crestfallen she had felt either during the car ride back home, though Maria was another story. Kyoko had to console her teary daughter that there were other patients who needed Dr. Tsuruga in the hospital, and that she couldn't be selfish when those people were sickly and needed treatment. Dr. Tsuruga had warmly informed an eventually gratified Maria that he would see her again soon, which, much to Kyoko's annoyance, made her heart skip a beat at the implication in his words. Did he just mean he was merely going to see Maria during the little girl's next follow-up appointment? But… he had mentioned earlier that he would offer Kyoko therapy. So did this mean he intended to see her privately for a few therapy sessions? The prospect made her nervous and jittery; she didn't like having to open herself completely up to him.

Not that she had to worry, apparently, because Dr. Tsuruga hadn't called or texted her since getting the mother and daughter home. And he _had_ her phone number now, so there was no reason for him not to text her. Of course, he might be absolutely busy right now at the hospital, being caught up in patient consultations and surgeries, and possibly carrying out night shift rotations. All the same, Kyoko was alarmed by how strongly attached she was becoming to him.

She picked up her smartphone from the pocket of her baggy, grey sweatpants and, after some hesitation, began texting Dr. Fuwa Sho.

 _"I accept your offer."_

Kyoko had guessed he wouldn't reply her anytime soon since it was past ten o'clock at night, but to her surprise, her phone vibrated in her hand almost instantly.

She pursed her lips irritably at the psychiatrist's text.

 _"Good. Take a day's leave from work tomorrow, and wait for me to pick you up from your house in the morning for your dress fitting."_

It was just like the bossy, arrogant psychiatrist to tell Kyoko what to do without once asking if it was alright with her. It didn't help that he had her residential address listed on her identification documents stored in his clinic's system. This meant nothing would stop him from driving by tomorrow, not even, she suspected, if she texted him not to come. Was he a complete idiot? Did he really think she could apply for a day's leave of work so easily—and at such late notice—the moment he ordered her to? How about Maria? She had school the next day at seven in the morning. Kyoko still had to wake her daughter up, bathe her, dress her in her uniform, then serve her daughter breakfast before seeing her off at the bus stop right downstairs by their apartment block, where the school bus would pick her up. She could only hope Fuwa wouldn't do something crazy like dropping by their place that early in the morning.

Kyoko sent out another text to Fuwa. _"When will you come?"_

No reply.

She waited five minutes, then ten, then fifteen, and finally gave up. Scowling peevishly, the mother stuffed her smartphone back into the pockets of her sweatpants.

Fuck Fuwa Sho.

* * *

He arrived in his sleek, black Jaguar shortly after Maria had boarded the school bus and gone off. As per their usual morning routine, Kyoko had painstakingly packed her daughter's bento for her, which consisted of fresh rice, salmon, cucumbers, and steamed egg rolls, then wrapped the box up in cloth and placed it into her school bag, making sure it was nestled properly between her textbooks. Once dressing a sleepy Maria in her elementary sailor fuku uniform, and making sure her blouse, pleated skirt, and penny loafers were immaculate, Kyoko had placed her black student cap over her curly head, then walked her to the bus stop. She'd waved at her beloved daughter as the latter stepped into the bus, and watched as the vehicle set off and disappeared from view. The plan was to bring a change of clothes for Maria later and pick her up from school in the late afternoon, and then head straight for the Takarada manor, where the banquet was scheduled to start early evening. Maria was very excited knowing she was going to see her father and grandfather today, and this knowledge had kept her in exceptionally jubilant spirits when she got ready for school at home.

Kyoko had barely moved away from the bus stop when Dr. Fuwa's gleaming, black Jaguar pulled up next to it, causing her to blink in shock when the tinted car window by the driver's seat rolled down, revealing the psychiatrist sitting by the steering wheel, dark Ray-Ban sunglasses resting on the perfect, aquiline ridge of his nose. His blond hair was gelled up in casual spikes as always, and he wore a black trench coat.

"Hop in," he said.

Kyoko's jaw dropped. "Are you _insane_?"

Was he insane, indeed? She didn't even have her handbag with her, or her wallet, though her phone was currently resting snugly in the pocket of her grey sweatpants—the same sweatpants she had worn overnight. She'd only come down from her apartment to briefly see Maria off for school. While she knew Sho was coming over, how was she supposed to know he was going to arrive at this very moment? The asshole had refused to divulge the exact time that he was going to reach her place. Besides, this was just after _seven_ in the morning. It was just as she dreaded. Why was Dr. Fuwa Sho here so early, anyway? She suspected he hadn't gone to his clinic today, probably leaving it to be run by the other psychiatrists working there as well as his reception staff. Being the owner of your own clinic—and hence running your own operations—must come in handy sometimes. Kyoko had emailed her letter requesting work leave last night to her office manager, which the latter had accepted.

Instead of responding to her statement, Fuwa Sho opened the car door and stepped out of his vehicle, his military boots slamming against the grey asphalt of the ground.

"C'mon," he prompted impatiently. "We're gonna get your dress for tonight. I'll drop you back home once you get your outfit, and then pick you up again later in the evening."

Kyoko glared at him. "You're crazy. As surprising as this might be to you, I'm not ready to go anywhere with you right now. I haven't changed, and I don't even have my purse—"

"You look as you always do right now," Dr. Fuwa remarked, shrugging nonchalantly as he gestured at her sweatpants and wrinkled tee. "Plain and boring. Don't bother to get changed. And as for the dress tonight, I'll take care of it, so forget about getting your purse. Just get in the car now."

She was so surprised that she nearly forgot to feel insulted. "You're _paying?_ "

This was mind-blowing. Fuwa was known to be stingy and selfish. During the times they shared meals together (against her will), he had never once footed the entire bill, much to her frustration. It was especially bad because he always forced her to dine with him at costly, high-class restaurants, where he ordered all kinds of extravagant dishes with abandon. The most he ever paid was half the bill. It infuriated Kyoko so much, since she didn't want to even eat at such an expensive restaurant. He should at least pay for it all if he wanted to dine there—she didn't exactly want to accompany him either. In contrast, she knew Fuwa only displayed this niggardliness with her. When it came to the gorgeous, younger women he dated, he always played the perfect gentleman and treated them to meals and whatnot together. She was aware of this because he always made sure to tell her, mostly likely to irk her. And now he was saying he would take care of the dress for her tonight? What was the bastard up to? Whatever reason he was doing this for, it wasn't because he was being charitable, that was for certain.

"Of course not," Sho drawled, rolling his expressive blue eyes behind his shades. "You're gonna borrow a dress from one of my close friends. We're heading to her apartment now. If you're gonna be _my_ date tonight, I have a reputation to uphold. Any woman I bring to a dinner has to look more than decent, and my friend might just be able to do the trick for you."

Kyoko regarded him warily. "What friend?"

Half an hour later, she was in the penthouse apartment belonging to Shoko Aki, one of Dr. Fuwa's lengthy list of ex-lovers, as it turned out.

However, there seemed to be a complete lack of bad blood between them, which was strange for most former couples. Kyoko had never seen anything like this. This woman and Fuwa seemed almost like platonic besties now, judging by how familiar and comfortable they acted around each other. Kyoko could only stare awkwardly when they shared a light kiss in the apartment unit as greeting. In comparison, Kyoko could never achieve this kind of serenity ever again with Kouki—it only made her melancholic and bitter to think of him. She had to wonder how this seemingly gentle Shoko Aki could have once tolerated dating such an egomaniac like Dr. Fuwa, and how she could still stand him after their break-up (which Kyoko scornfully surmised was caused by said egomania). Shoko was way out of Fuwa's league, in Kyoko's opinion, and deserved better.

The beautiful, voluptuous brunette, who turned out to be a wealthy fashion stylist, welcomed Kyoko into her lavish home with open arms. She was dressed in nothing but a satin bathrobe which barely concealed the cleavage of her voluminous, plushly-rounded breasts, and the parted cloth showed off her naked, long legs gliding on crimson high-heeled pumps. Despite having her face devoid of make-up, there was no denying her poetically delightful features: intriguing grey eyes, high, pale nose, and the rosebud mouth. She had on a sweet jasmine perfume that made Kyoko slightly dizzy, though whether it was because she felt intoxicated or nauseated, she wasn't sure.

Kyoko was guessing the latter, but not entirely because of the perfume. She was currently suffering from a very bad case of cramps, and it wasn't helping her sour mood. This wasn't too shocking, since she often experienced said agony whenever her time of the month came knocking on the door. It made her slightly annoyed, since a lot of women out there had never actually suffered cramps during their periods. Kyoko was just among the unlucky percentage who was frequently plagued by them. What was even more unlucky was that she had a party tonight to endure, and hence her time of the month couldn't have arrived at a worse time. Not only did she have to face her ex-husband and his mistress tonight (as well as his contemptuous, judgemental relatives, save for Lory), she also had to deal with pangs of pain seizing her lower belly for the rest of the night. Kouki would be furious at her if she let any of her discomfort show tonight—he was always telling Kyoko that a true lady should never expose her vulnerabilities. On the other hand, Kyoko wanted nothing more right now than to curl up on her couch under her blanket, clutch a hot bottle to her tummy, and close her eyes.

Instead of insisting on going back home to do just that, she gave Shoko Aki a wan smile. "Hello."

"You're so cute!" Shoko cooed. She had draped herself daintily over the chaise lounge in her living room, looking like a swimsuit model. "I can't wait to dress you up… Kyoko, is it?"

"Yeah," Kyoko said. Dr. Fuwa had left Shoko's apartment just a few minutes ago, saying he would be back to pick her up in two hours. On their way to Shoko's penthouse, he had bought a few bagels for the both of them as a hasty breakfast. Thanks to her raging hormones (brought on by her period), she had devoured them in the car within a few minutes, much to Fuwa's alarm.

"Okay," Shoko declared. She snapped her long French nails. "Strip."

Whatever Kyoko had been expecting, it wasn't this. " _What?_ "

"Strip," Shoko repeated, as if she asked this of everyone she met. "I want to see your body to determine the best type of outfit for you. You don't have to take off your underclothing. Just the rest." She pointed at Kyoko's baggy tee and sweatpants. "Speaking of which, is that your nightwear? It's very unflattering, dear. We'll have to get you something better."

"Um, do I really have to strip?" Kyoko said hastily. "I don't look any less unflattering under my clothes, actually."

"You're being way too hard on yourself, my dear," Shoko said kindly. "Confidence is half of what makes a woman beautiful. Don't you know?"

What Kyoko knew was that unlike Shoko, she didn't have a tall, sensuous body with pert, luscious skin. While she had lost weight, it didn't change the fact that various parts of her body were beginning to sag. Her breasts were no longer as taut and perky, and her nipples had enlarged and were permanently darkened from breastfeeding her daughter. There were also now faint stretch marks on her abdomen, along with her somewhat diminished C-section scar. When she had been pregnant with Maria, she had gained weight so rapidly it appalled both herself and Kouki. Gone was her stick-thin frame—she became chubbier, and not just in her belly. Due to her extremely petite stature, the baby was a tight squeeze inside her, and her abdomen had appeared almost humongous under her maternity clothing. While she had shed the baby weight recently, nothing could alter the marks left by childbirth. Her stomach had never fully flattened again, and there was a persistent flabbiness to it. Regrettably, her weight fluctuated very easily now thanks to her slowed metabolism, and she could swiftly gain the pounds back if she wasn't careful.

These were the shameful thoughts swimming across Kyoko's head as she reluctantly took off her shirt, and then tugged off her pants. She felt cold, and bare, and vulnerable.

A second passed, and then—

"I can work with this," Shoko announced excitedly, jumping to her feet and sauntering over to where Kyoko stood in only her panties and bra. "Your cup size is huge, by the way. That must come from being a mother, right? Sho told me you had a daughter!"

"Um," Kyoko said uneasily, clutching her clothes to herself. "Yes."

"We'll need to get you a dress that can show off your bust," Shoko said, almost half to herself, tapping her lower lip with a manicured nail. "Yes. Yes. I have an idea." She looked up, excitement shining in her ashen eyes, and clapped her hands together theatrically. "Alright. Let's do this!"

* * *

Kyoko stared out of Dr. Fuwa Sho's car window, her manicured hands—adorned with French nails just like Shoko's, thanks to the latter's help—resting on her lap. Sitting beside her at the backseat of the Jaguar, Maria, wearing one of her favorite pink, floral print frocks, chattered eagerly to her mother, her chestnut curls held by an equally pink hair band with a bow glued to its length. The little girl wore black, polished Mary Jane shoes, along with milk-white stockings.

"Mummy, you look so pretty!" she gushed in awe. "I love it!"

Kyoko turned her head, and smiled fondly at her daughter. "You look amazing as well, sweetie."

Shoko Aki had truly done wonders on Kyoko. She had gone for the retro look, choosing to style Kyoko's copper hair into short vintage curls. Fancy, old-fashioned ringlets decorated the side of Kyoko's face, while the rest of her curls were sleekly tucked behind her other ear. The perm had taken hours to complete, and in the meantime while Kyoko's hair was rolled-up in curlers, she and Shoko had enjoyed what the latter called 'girl time'.

The stylist had called Fuwa on the phone and told him to drop by at a later time than as planned, before jovially hanging up on him. The two women had spent the afternoon chatting, painting their nails, and listening to love songs on the radio. Surprisingly enough, Kyoko had enjoyed herself. Shoko was a very likeable companion, with her quick wit and warmth. Kyoko was certain she had made a new friend today. The fashion stylist had showed Kyoko around a whole room that was designed as her wardrobe (the room was bigger than Kyoko's own living room at home), with all types of garments hanging from the racks, from formal, office wear to evening gowns and cocktail dresses to frills and lingerie. Kyoko, who had put on her shirt and sweatpants again earlier, felt very plain suddenly.

In the end, they had chosen a vintage, black halter dress belonging to Shoko with a dipping sweetheart neckline that bared more of Kyoko's generous cleavage than she was comfortable with. Her breasts had swelled tremendously since she had become pregnant with Maria, and she had gone up several cup sizes. As she had been near flat-chested before her pregnancy, this was a welcome improvement, but the main downside—which Kyoko resented more than anything else—was how her breasts had lost their elasticity and firmness. Still, the halter dress pushed her chest further upwards, giving off the illusion of extremely plump, full breasts, and it fit Kyoko stunningly well. In truth, she adored it more than she was willing to admit. As Shoko was a lot taller than Kyoko, the dress, which was supposed to touch her upper thighs, reached her knees instead, but Shoko commented approvingly that it still appeared as exquisite. Shoko had also passed her a scarlet silk shawl to wrap around her bare arms, and it brought out the copper shade of her curls perfectly.

Shoko kept many unopened products of shoes in her home, mostly for her clients, Kyoko guessed. Shoko was apparently a famous household name in the fashion world, having attended numerous, high-profile fashion shows, styled various popular models in showbiz, and been behind the creation of many successful clothing lines. It was from their 'girl time' today that Kyoko found out Shoko had once been one of Dr. Fuwa's patients, having suffered from social anxiety before, which was crippling her career as a model back then. As a former model turned designer, she knew exactly how to work the theme of one's outfits and make them look good. According to her, Kyoko's heart-shaped face, doe eyes and soft lips were perfect for the old Hollywood glamor look. To match the rest of Kyoko's vintage theme, Shoko had selected a pair of charming, ebony round toe heeled pumps, with ankle straps. It had been so long since Kyoko had worn high heels—four-inch, chunky ones—that she winced at the pain her elevated feet elicited to her already bad menstrual cramps. However, she didn't let her discomfiture surface, and simply thanked Shoko for lending her all these clothes and shoes.

Kyoko's makeup was relatively complex, where Shoko had expertly applied winged eyeliner to apparently enhance her 'large Bambi eyes', numerous layers of mascara (but no false lashes as she said Kyoko's natural lashes were already very long), and foundation (to make her already smooth skin creamier and fairer), coupled with bold red lipstick.

When Fuwa came to pick her up, he went completely still.

Admittedly striking in a tight-fitting, costly plum suit, he appeared at a loss of words, which was remarkable coming from him. His blond hair was now free of the gel he often used to gather them into spikes, leaving the golden hair to fall around his angular face prettily. Dr. Fuwa had cleaned up from his usual delinquent, bad boy look nicely; she noticed that he had removed most of his many stud earrings—which were normally lined along his entire earlobes—so that only one remained on each ear. However, his silver ring bands were still around his long, dextrous fingers, not to mention his nails were still painted black.

She couldn't deny, though, that he looked gorgeous.

"Well," Fuwa said at last, when his ability to speak finally returned. She didn't miss how his blue eyes were fixed on her very ample cleavage, partly thanks to the push-up function of the dress and partly thanks to her own naturally generous cup size. "For the first time ever, I have to say you're one hell of a MILF."

"What does that even mean?" Kyoko demanded suspiciously, not understanding the term.

Shoko strutted over and smacked Fuwa's head. Hard. "Sho! That was completely inappropriate!"

Kyoko never found out what that term meant, since Dr. Fuwa had whisked her away into his car shortly, though not before Shoko wished them a pleasant time at the party. They had dropped by Kyoko's apartment block so that she could collect some of her belongings and her clutch—the nicest black clutch that Kanae had given her for her birthday some years ago—as well as a change of clothes for Maria.

Then they had passed by Maria's after-school care centre just in time to pick her up, where Kyoko had passed her daughter her fresh clothes (the hair band with the pink bow, floral print frock, stockings, and Mary Jane shoes,) and told her to change in the school's restroom. Maria always studied in the safe environment of an after-school care centre after her elementary school hours ended because Kyoko was ordinarily still working at her office then, and was hence unable to pick her up at school. Kyoko was at first worried that Maria might feel more homesick, but it turned out her worries were unnecessary as the extroverted Maria enjoyed the times with her school friends, who were also at the after-school care centre, immensely. Her daughter's personality was so opposite her own that it astounded Kyoko sometimes. After Maria had changed in the washrooms of the centre, she had returned to Fuwa's Jaguar to join her mother, gushing with admiration about Kyoko's newly changed appearance. Kyoko, smiling, had then neatly folded and tucked her daughter's discarded uniform into her schoolbag.

"Isn't your mother a hottie?" Dr. Fuwa drawled to Maria from the driver's seat.

"A 'hottie'?" Maria repeated confusedly. She had been so caught up in Kyoko's makeover that she hadn't registered much of Fuwa's presence. "Who are you? You look familiar."

Kyoko noticed though, that Maria's voice had gone oddly higher-pitched and squeakier when she took in Fuwa's arrogant, sculpted face.

Great. The last thing she wanted was for her own daughter to have a schoolgirl crush on Fuwa Sho. Her crush on Dr. Tsuruga was bad enough.

"Your mother's boy toy," Dr. Fuwa said, grinning.

" _Dr. Fuwa!_ " Kyoko shrieked.

"What's a 'boy toy'?" Maria asked. "You're a person! You can't be a toy!"

"It's nothing, sweetie!" Kyoko said rapidly. "Ignore him. He's talking rubbish."

"But who is he?"

"He's just a friend of mine who's going to accompany us to the party. Ignore him."

"I may just be your boy toy," Fuwa quipped, "but I have feelings too, you know."

Kyoko wanted to yell an expletive at him, but unfortunately with Maria around, it was a no can do. Instead, she stared daggers outside the lowered car window, watching the sunset. They were almost two hours early for the banquet, which, she knew, was a good thing, since Kouki was very particular about punctuality.

She sighed silently at the conflicting mess of emotions she felt. It had been over a day, and Tsuruga Ren still hadn't contacted her. Her unchanging phone screen had been bugging her since she had woken this morning, and even throughout her time at Shoko's house. Did he never intend to contact her again? What happened to the private therapy sessions he had promised her? Had she appeared so put-off by his offer yesterday that he had changed his mind? Kyoko gritted her teeth, more annoyed at herself than anyone else. She didn't really want therapy, anyway. Not with Dr. Tsuruga. Didn't she say to herself before that it would be nerve-wracking to confide in him? The surgeon definitely could sense her reluctance about his offer yesterday. So why was she feeling so bloody disappointed now, then? She should be relieved that she didn't have to be forced into therapy. Yet, in a sense, she felt irrationally dejected and unwanted.

 _Therapy, you see, is absolutely futile if the patient does not wish for it. Do you wish to get better?_

Kyoko's head rose slowly. Dr. Tsuruga's words, spoken in that silky, deep voice, suddenly struck her memory. Was this what it was all about? It was a big, desperate jump in logic, but did Dr. Tsuruga actually want Kyoko to contact him first?

There was no point, according to him, in forcing therapy on anyone. The patient had to be willing—no, she had to wish for it herself in order to get better. Did that mean she was supposed to reach out to Dr. Tsuruga for help first, and not the other way around?

Glancing furtively to Maria, Kyoko saw that the eight-year-old was peering with childlike fascination out of the car window from her side of the backseat.

Kyoko quietly fished out her smartphone from her clutch, steeling herself to do it. A whole day of waiting was beginning to grate on her limited patience, and she was so desperate to talk to Dr. Tsuruga again that she was willing to compromise her pride if it came down to it. She was so heady with the unexpected streak of adrenaline gushing through her veins at the revelation that it was hard to think straight.

 _Dr. Tsuruga is waiting for me to call_ , she reassured herself, unsure if it was just an excuse or the truth. _I'm just doing what he wants._

Her fingers pressed the ' _CALL_ ' icon on his contact name, and the words _Dr. Demon Tsuruga_ flashed across her phone screen as it began calling him.

The large words of his contact name were an instant wake-up call. Kyoko came back to her senses with a jolt, nearly gasping, and she ended the call straightaway, her fingers shaking. What the hell was she fucking doing? Fuwa was just in front of her, driving! Did she want to call Tsuruga Ren while her infuriating psychiatrist was in the same car as her, and have him overhear everything? Of course not!

She was going insane. She really was. She had missed Tsuruga Ren so much that she had almost lost her usual inhibitions. And to make things worse, the surgeon would probably discover a missed call from Kyoko on his phone from his end.

Great. Just great. She rested her head against the leather seating of the Jaguar, and closed her eyes, trying to forget it all. There was no point dwelling about it now, not when the damage was already done.

Too bad her nightmare was only just beginning.

Half an hour later of stormy silence later, Fuwa's Jaguar began to approach the looming, metallic black gates of the Takarada Manor. Through the gaps in the exotic spirals of the gates, Kyoko could make out the hauntingly familiar vast gardens on the other side. A hitch rose in her throat, and her French nails dug into her midnight clutch. How many times had she been there, sitting on the swings alone, not wanting be a part of the societal conferences her ex-husband and his father held with their wealthy, aristocratic associates? It was the same place where she had met the pretty, gold-haired little Hizuri boy, who was undoubtedly going to be here today. She wondered vaguely how he was doing now as she scanned the dense, green hedges panning out from each side of the gates. Right on cue, with a low rumble, the majestic gates began to part and open. Fuwa drove in, the car's tires rolling against the cobblestone path that wound around the bubbling fountain, which stood right in front of the manor's main doors. A provocative, marble statue of a naked male stood in the fountain, its arm extended in a motion of benevolence. Lory was a huge fan of the nuances of the Victorian era, and he had instructed the contractors to build the paths outside his manor that way.

Kyoko's stomach tightened when the magnificent manor house came into view; it was so wide that she couldn't take it all in without looking around. Long pillars—cracked slightly with age—towered at the sides of the big verandah. The colossal mansion was aged, having been the family home for generations and generations of Takaradas, but until now, it had retained its grandeur and regality, partly thanks to it constantly being touched up by new contractors. A huge clock tower rose from the black roof of the mansion silently. Palm trees stood from all around the manor, giving it a strangely tropical feel, contradicting the Victorian atmosphere. But then again, Lory Takarada was a man of irony. His tastes were flamboyant and eccentric, to say the least.

Dr. Fuwa pulled up his purring Jaguar into the open space parking lot, and turned off the engine. Kyoko could see many other cars that were already parked—BMWs, Porsches, and a few Ferraris. All the expensive automobiles were making her increasingly unsettled. She opened the car door next to her, knowing Fuwa wasn't chivalrous enough to open it for her, and took Maria's hand. Together, the mother and daughter vacated the Jaguar.

Kyoko winced. Her chunky high heels did not feel comfortable against the cobblestone ground, and it sent bolts of pain in her already cramping lower abdomen. Much to her shock, Fuwa took her other hand—the one not clutching Maria's—and guided her carefully across the path.

His uncharacteristic act of gentlemanliness floored her.

At least, this lasted until another car door opened, revealing a beautiful woman and a handsome man, escorted by a few bodyguards. Kyoko recognised the couple; they were acclaimed supermodels in the entertainment industry, and she frequently saw their faces in magazines and on television. Fuwa ogled the curvaceous woman, dressed in a tight, white bandage dress and wearing soaring high heels (much higher than Kyoko's), which she maneuvered effortlessly across the cobblestone. Suffice to say, she glided far more gracefully across the ground than Kyoko did.

The mother sighed, rolling her lined eyes as Dr. Fuwa stopped in his tracks, still checking the supermodel out. She tugged her hand out of the psychiatrist's, and, along with a blithely chattering Maria, made their way to the manor.

* * *

"Kyoko, my dear, you look just absolutely beautiful. How are you?"

The copper-haired female smiled at Lory Takarada.

A few minutes ago, Kyoko, Fuwa, and Maria had been ushered by the impeccably attired family butler, Sebastian, through the great hall of the mansion, and past various winding corridors straight to Lory's office. In the meanwhile, the other guests, such as the supermodels, had been ushered by another servant to the ornate ballroom, where, Kyoko overheard, drinks were being served and celebratory music was playing. Dinner was to begin very soon, in about an hour, and they would have to head to the dining hall later by that time. If Kyoko was not mistaken, Lory had invited a 'small number' of three hundred guests to his manor.

Red, velvet curtains were tied at the sides of the wide windows, allowing the breathtaking, golden rays of the setting sun to seep into the tastefully furnished room that was Lory's office. The windows gave a tremendous view of the abundant, elaborate gardens outside the manor, something which Kyoko knew Lory Takarada liked looking out at while sipping his brandy during his private hours. Said man presently sat on a leather armchair at the head of the lounge table, dressed as, of all things, a senior sailor. He wore a rigid sailor cap, with a black silk tally tied around its base, where Kyoko noticed the word _Takarada_ was inscribed, instead of a ship's name that was the custom. His uniform included the ceremonial blue jean collar, the red tie on his chest, and bell bottomed trousers. A cigar was perched on his mustached lips, with smoke drifting from it. Maria was sitting on her grandfather's lap, prattling to him elatedly.

"I'm fine, Mr. Takarada, thank you," Kyoko said politely, seated on the couch, keeping her manicured hands folded atop the material of her ebony halter dress. She was aware of Lina and Kouki staring at her from where they sat opposite on a second leather couch.

To say they were flabbergasted when they first noticed Kyoko's appearance was an understatement. Shoko had clearly done an excellent job dolling Kyoko up. Kyoko had seen Lina's black-painted lips part, her eyes, hooded by extravagant, gold-dusted false lashes, widening in a mixture of anger and shock as she looked at Kyoko's makeover.

The other woman was wearing something far more skimpy than what Kyoko wore: a black, skin-tight, sleeveless mesh gown that was utterly see-through from top to bottom, revealing to everyone in the room that she wore nothing but a thong underneath. She might as well not have worn the dress, since Kyoko could make out the entirety of her perky breasts—and nipples—very well beneath the mesh. Lina was also dripping with jewelry; a choker, embedded with rubies, emeralds, and sapphires, was fastened around her slender neck, and colorful diamond rings glittered on her fingers, one of them being her wedding ring. She wore chandelier emerald earrings, and tiny gems (real ones, Kyoko knew) were glued to her smooth cheekbones, making her face even more exotic than it already was. Her blonde hair was sleekly pinned up in an elegant French twist, bringing more attention to her smoky eyeshadow, contoured features, and black lipstick.

Kouki, on the other hand, was dressed in a smart, dark blue tuxedo, and he appeared very distinguished. Her ex-husband seemed utterly taken aback and dazed when he spotted Kyoko, and she was aware of the disbelief that had sprung into his dark eyes, which occasionally drifted to Kyoko's greatly exposed chest.

"Scumbag," Kyoko heard Fuwa mutter under his breath from next to her.

"There's no need to be so formal, Kyoko," Lory said kindly. He was patting Maria's lovely curls as he spoke. "We're all family here."

"But Father," Lina protested. "This obscene woman—" She threw Kyoko a poisonous look. "—isn't part of our family anymore."

"Now, I want to address the dining arrangements," Lory went on. He was very evidently ignoring Lina; the blonde's face turned white. "Maria, of course, shall sit right next to me by the head of the table later."

"Yay!" Maria exclaimed, clapping her chubby hands together. "I can't wait to eat with you, Grandfather!"

"I, as well, my dear," Lory answered her fondly. "And Kyoko will sit next to Maria, naturally, followed by her companion—Dr. Fuwa, yes?—tonight. Kouki will sit beside me on the other side, followed by Lina."

"But, Father!" Lina ground out. "Mogami Kyoko can't sit so near you by the head of the table! It's unheard of! She has no relation to any of us anymore! Why, she's seated closer to you than Kouki's own uncles and aunts! By right, she should sit the furthest from where the Takaradas are sitting!"

Kyoko swallowed.

"But she does have a relation to us," Lory corrected his new daugher-in-law calmly. "She is Maria's mother."

"But—but…" Lina flailed her diamond-ringed hands furiously. She turned to her husband. "Kouki, say something!"

Kouki eyed Kyoko, then glared at Fuwa Sho. "Who are you, exactly, and what's your relationship with Kyoko?"

Lina's beautiful face seemed to turn chalk-white with rage.

"Fuwa Sho," the blond male drawled boredly, his long legs crossed. He looked almost asleep throughout the discussion. "I met Kyoko a while ago from a mutual friend, and decided to come with her. Nice to meet you."

Expectedly, Fuwa hadn't revealed the true nature of how he and Kyoko had met, since Kyoko wished to hide her mental condition from the Takarada clan. This wasn't a special exception he had made for her. He was, after all, sworn to a claim of confidentiality with all his patients, not just Kyoko.

"Dr. Fuwa Sho," Lory said mildly. Something told a disconcerted Kyoko that he wasn't as deceived as she'd hoped. "I've heard of you. You're a well-known psychiatrist for having offered many female aristocrats therapy. It's a pleasure to meet you, and I welcome you warmly to our banquet."

Dr. Fuwa inclined his gold head in thanks.

"Father," Lina said again, but was cut off by Lory as he rose from his armchair, tugging Maria up with him.

"I'll be leaving first to check on our guests," he announced, adjusting his sailor cap and his cigar. "We still have an hour left before dinner starts, so the rest of you can stay here and rest until then. Maria, would you like to come with me?"

"Yes!" Maria beamed immediately, jumping up and down exuberantly. "Mummy, I'll be right back!"

Fuwa got to his feet as well, tucking his hands into the pockets of his plum suit. "I'll join you as well. Kyoko, I'll be back in a jiffy."

Kyoko ignored him, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes again. It was so blatant that Fuwa wanted to seize the chance to mingle with the other guests, or more specifically, the attractive women—like the supermodel they had seen earlier—amongst them. Actresses, fashion models, and other high-standing female figures were of a huge majority on Lory's guest list, and this was the real, lecherous reason Fuwa had come here with Kyoko. Kyoko was, as he had said, just a ticket to that paradise. She surmised his everyday female patients were becoming a bore to him now; Fuwa was the kind of guy who hated stagnancy. He enjoyed meeting new women, and got restless after seeing the same few ones for too long.

But then again, most men were like that, such as Kouki himself. Age might have been a significant factor as to his divorce with Kyoko, but another painful reason was that he was merely—and cruelly—bored of her. They had been together all the way back since high school, and he hadn't had the chance to meet someone else for many, many years. Kyoko suspected he had been seeing Lina for some time already behind her back throughout their marriage, long before Maria was born.

"I'll come with you, Father," Kouki said, though Kyoko noticed his eyes were agitatedly fixed on Fuwa Sho.

Without looking back, Kouki followed the rest out of the room, their footsteps soft against the lushly carpeted floor.

The grand oak door closed behind them, and Kyoko blinked, realising she was now alone with a livid Lina Takarada, who stalked over to where she sat.

Kyoko had barely taken a second to register her situation when a heavily ringed female hand lashed out and slapped her little face. The copper-haired woman fell back against the leather sofa, gasping, her black clutch falling out of her grip and hitting the thick, russet carpet with a muted thud. Its contents spilled out, including her smartphone.

Lina slapped Kyoko again, causing the old-fashioned, copper curls of her prettily coiffed hair to shake. Kyoko cried out in pain, especially at the hard surface of her diamond rings.

"How dare you!" Lina burst out wrathfully, her voice shrill. The gems glued to her feminine cheekbones sparkled innocently, a contrast against its owner's burning, malicious eyes. "Who are you to come back here to _my_ manor, you fucking slut? You don't belong here, not anymore! You don't deserve to have Lory fawning over you! What's with your makeover, huh? Are you trying to lure _my_ husband back to you? Well, good luck with that, because he will never want an ugly old hag like you back!"

Kyoko's hazel eyes filled with the sting of tears.

And then Lina shoved her delicate frame off the sofa, and Kyoko gasped with terror as she slammed to the floor, the hem of her dress flickering and her manicured hands landing roughly right where her discarded clutch lay. She could feel the abrasions alongside her bare arms at where she had collided onto the carpet.

"You useless, unwanted bitch!" Lina bellowed, kicking her stiletto shoe directly into Kyoko's abdomen.

The agony was so excruciating that her vision turned temporarily white, and Kyoko opened her mouth to let out a soundless scream.

It took a few seconds before her sight eventually cleared, and Kyoko, having recoiled from the kick and curled herself up in defense, finally opened her eyes, whimpering and moaning in pain. Her vision was still blurry.

It took a while before she sensed something vibrate amidst the haze of hot-white pain searing all over her body. She looked down, breathing raggedly, and her stricken hazel eyes caught a glimpse of her quietly vibrating phone (she had set it on silent mode) on the russet carpet, which had lit up from an incoming call. Despite her agony, the words on the screen were undeniable.

 _Dr. Demon Tsuruga_.

He was calling her back, mostly likely after discovering the outgoing call she had made to him and abruptly hung up on back inside Fuwa's Jaguar.

"You bitch! Are you listening to me?" Lina shrieked, sounding almost deranged with hatred. She yanked hold of the back of Kyoko's raven halter dress with both hands, forcefully hauling the smaller woman closer towards her. "I'm going to fucking kill you right now if it's the last thing I do! Don't expect anyone to save you now!"

Kyoko's trembling finger rubbed against her smartphone screen, hitting the ' _ANSWER'_ icon.

And then she could only cry out as the phone, with Ren undoubtedly listening on the other end, fell from her grasp, and as Lina bent down, still shouting vulgarities at her, and slapped her once more.

* * *

 _:tbc:_

* * *

 **A** **/N:** Hi, everyone! I apologize dearly for the lack of Ren in this chapter, but I promise I'll make up for it in the next one. I missed him a lot, but his absence was sadly a necessary evil for the plot to progress. Also, I would like to mention that Lina Takarada is Maria's canonical mother in the manga. There are no OCs in this fic as of now, though I did exercise my artistic licence a bit and alter the personalities of Kouki and Lina to something more antagonistic.

By the way, I went to Prague in Europe for ten days of vacation, so that threw a wrench in the works. I'd actually written nothing at all during my vacation, which is why I got back to work on this chapter like a madwoman the moment I returned home. The reviews I received really encouraged me, so thank you very much!


	7. Chapter 7

_:Chapter 7:_

It took Fuwa approximately two minutes to figure out something was wrong.

He noticed that everyone—Lory Takarada, Kouki, and Maria—were walking with him along the long, winding corridors of the manor, save for one person.

Lina Takarada. She had not joined them when they left Lory's study. This meant Kyoko had remained behind, and was alone… with Lina.

Definitely not a good sign. There was no reason for Lina to stay behind.

Not unless… She had issues to iron out with Kyoko.

Cursing under his breath, Fuwa turned on his heel and, ignoring the startled and questioning looks from his companions, began retracing his steps down the corridors of the manor back to where Lory's study was. They hadn't wandered off too far from the study, so it wasn't hard for him to memorize the way back. The blond sighed frustratedly, unhappy with the growing worry and fear in his chest. Making a mental note to ensure Kyoko would pay him back later for causing him to miss his chance to mingle with the hot supermodels in Lory's party, he quickened his footsteps, boots thudding on the polished floor. What irked Fuwa even more was how concerned he was for Kyoko—and how nonchalant he actually felt about missing out on the attractive women at the party. For a good while now, and that was prior to seeing Kyoko in her mesmerizing new getup (he really had to commend Shoko's styling skills on that), he'd been pretty preoccupied by thoughts of Mogami Kyoko. And notwithstanding today, she wasn't even hot! This was ridiculous; she wasn't anything like his type.

 _His type_ constituted of a huge rack, which Kyoko admittedly had, a tall, sexy figure and very long, thin legs. When it came to the other two aspects, Kyoko didn't fulfill them. Sure, her figure was sexy, especially in that skin-tight halter dress she wore tonight, and with that ass Fuwa hadn't been able to take his eyes off of, but she wasn't tall. She was petite and almost curvy thanks to the effects of motherhood. Fuwa had reminded himself about that repeatedly. Single mothers were nothing but trouble, seeing as their focus was more on their children than on him. He didn't like kids; they were troublesome, a pain in the ass, and high-maintenance. He also did not like the idea of hooking up with single mothers, since they were no longer as attractive as they once were prior to having kids. The last thing Fuwa wanted to bloody see was a saggy stomach covered with—he shuddered—stretch marks, or a woman's thunder thighs. Of course, many mothers with the money could afford to polish themselves up so that they went back to being as tight and pert as before. Kyoko, though, did not have that money.

Fuwa would much rather stray away from plain Janes like her, so why was it so damned hard? He almost wished Shoko hadn't dolled her up so nicely today.

Fuwa tugged the door of Lory's study open.

His heart stopped, and he saw red.

Lina Takarada was crouched over Kyoko's vulnerable frame, which was curled up into a tiny ball on the floor. Lina was gripping the hem of Kyoko's crumpled black dress, and was kicking blindly at Kyoko with her long stilettos. Kyoko's clutch had somehow landed onto the carpet not far from her, its contents spilled out. Fuwa could see her smartphone, its screen oddly lit up.

Still, he didn't have time to take a closer look at the device. Lina, oblivious to Fuwa's presence, was also screeching expletives at Kyoko, spitefully calling her names that were horrific even to a person as crude as Fuwa.

He strode forward within a second, and roughly grabbed Lina's arm, jerking her furiously away from the fallen Kyoko. She nearly tripped over her feet from his callous treatment of her, and he made no effort to help her as she adjusted herself.

Lina's head jerked upwards in shock, and Fuwa glared at the woman's widening smoky eyes, her long, gold-dusted lashes fluttering. To think he'd actually found her hot earlier—he had never been more disgusted at the sight of someone so vindictive and ugly now.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, you crazy bitch?" Fuwa hissed. In the field of psychiatry, the term 'crazy' was generally avoided, but Fuwa had never given a fuck about going by the textbook.

"Let go of me!" Lina screamed. Her long, manicured nails dug desperately into his wrist, and he immediately released the woman, sending her a look of utter contempt.

"She deserved it!" Lina spat, turning her head towards where Kyoko was still unmoving on the carpet. She was so motionless that Fuwa was instantly on worried alert.

Ignoring Lina Takarada, Fuwa knelt down in front of Kyoko and gently touched her bare shoulders from under her crooked red shawl. Her skin was cold and clammy, definitely not a good sign. She didn't respond to his touch, her entire body still coiled up into a scared ball. Fuwa could hear the door of the study fling open, and the clicking of Lina's heels on the polished floor as she fled outside.

Fucking coward.

Fuwa didn't have the time to worry about it. Kyoko's unresponsiveness was a bigger concern right now. His gut twisted as his suspicions began to grow. He lifted her bent head from atop the muted carpet, and brushed aside her perfectly coiffed bronze curls, revealing her pale, haunted face.

Glassy, unseeing large brown eyes stared back at him.

Fuwa swore. She'd fallen under another attack, had become catatonic.

"Kyoko," he commanded sternly, cupping her cheeks. "Snap out of this. Snap. Out. Of. This."

No reply.

This was not good.

Normally, Fuwa would take his time and counsel Kyoko in his consultation room until her attack gradually faded, though as a psychiatrist, his main job was only to prescribe her medication, not give her therapy. However, therapy or not, he was hardly given the luxury of time right now in Lory's study to slowly cajole her until she got better, not when the banquet was starting very soon. He didn't fancy cajoling her, anyway. It just wasn't his style, nor in his job description. But Fuwa did feel bad, which was a very foreign emotion to him. He'd agreed to come here to protect Kyoko, and he had fucking failed. He had automatically—and foolishly—assumed that Lina had left the study with the rest of them earlier, which was retarded of him. Lina had been practically boiling with animosity during the meeting with Lory; of course she would want to take it out on Kyoko the moment she could. A lot of her animosity stemmed from clear insecurity regarding Kyoko.

But right now, the most important thing on Fuwa's to-do list was to make sure Kyoko snapped out of her self-induced trance.

Fuwa lowered his face further and kissed Kyoko. Hard.

It was a wet, slightly noisy kiss, Fuwa's tongue boldly penetrating into the sweet cavern of her mouth. She was surprisingly delectable, and he would be lying if he said he hadn't been thinking of claiming those bold scarlet lips earlier tonight.

Kyoko jolted, and next thing he knew, she was tearing her mouth off him as if he tasted like bile. He would be more insulted if he wasn't so relieved she had finally recovered her senses.

"Are you insane?!" Kyoko cried out, choking and spluttering. Her eyes were no longer glassy and blank; fire burned angrily in them.

"What makes you think that?" he asked boredly.

"You kissed me! You—you—" She prodded her rosy red lips with her fingers, quaking in shock and anger.

"Put my tongue in your mouth? French kissed you? What, is it your first time anyone's done that? Stop acting like a stupid virgin."

Kyoko childishly slapped her hands over her ears. "Shut up, you pervert!"

He dragged her hands impatiently away from her head. "Are you okay now? Where did she hurt you?"

"I'm fine," Kyoko snapped, but Fuwa noticed that she winced as he gripped her small palms. Frowning, the psychiatrist examined her skinny forearms and flipped them over, and noticed from where her shawl had fallen away that her baby-soft skin was now covered in reddened abrasions, no doubt from rubbing onto the carpet.

"Fuck," he muttered. "You're hurt."

"I said I'm fine, you lecher," Kyoko growled. "Those are just minor scrapes."

She glanced to the fallen, strangely lit-up phone beside her, and turned rigid.

Then her face turned whiter than ever, and she pounced onto it, snatching the device up. Fuwa saw then that the phone was lit up due to a call… A call that was still ongoing. Whoever on the other end must have been listening to what was going on here the whole time. Lina attacking Kyoko, Lina's horrendous language, Fuwa saving Kyoko, Fuwa kissing Kyoko to snap her out of her spell… Everything up to this point, he surmised.

Kyoko ended the call hastily, gasping fearfully. Her beautiful eyes, accentuated by perfect winged liner, were large hazel pools of fright.

"What?" Fuwa wanted to know immediately. "Who was that?"

"No one," Kyoko said tightly. "Nobody you know."

Fuwa was curious. But he figured now wasn't the time to push her about it, not when she had just recovered from her attack.

"C'mon," he said. "There should be a restroom somewhere for you to clean your wounds up. Can you stand?"

He guided Kyoko to the clean, opulent restroom that was right next to Lory's study, and after tugging off the shawl aside, helped splash cool tap water onto her abrasions. She was surprisingly compliant, and also very silent. Fuwa was almost worried that she was falling back into her previous stupor if not for the fact that her eyes were still relatively alert, and that she was flinching at the stinging water against her cuts.

"Do you think you're okay to stay here?" Fuwa asked frankly. "That bitch is fucking insane. It's not too late to leave, and—"

"No," Kyoko objected heavily. "I can't just leave. Maria would want to know why. I can't ruin what's supposed to be a special night between her and her grandfather."

Fuwa sighed exasperatedly, pinching his nose. "You're such a fucking martyr sometimes."

"I'm okay," Kyoko insisted, but her hands were trembling. "Let's just go. The party is starting."

Fuwa's lips pursed. "Okay, but don't leave my side for even a second. Your husband's mistress will come after you the moment she thinks the both of you are alone."

"So we just have to make sure Lory or Kouki can see us, right?" Kyoko said hoarsely. "She won't dare to come after me if they're watching."

"Yeah," Fuwa said. He was rummaging through her clutch, and he took out a tiny pill bottle of Lorazepam—a form of antidepressant—he had prescribed her. "Take this."

She stared at it. "But you said to avoid taking this unless…"

"It's an emergency," Fuwa finished for her. "And this is one. If you don't want to have an attack in front of them, then this might help."

Kyoko's small nose scrunched up as she contemplated his words, then she took the bottle from him. "Okay."

She popped the pill in her mouth, washing it down with tap water. Fuwa studied her carefully. She looked otherwise okay. Lina hadn't really touched Kyoko's hair, so her beautiful, bronze pin-up curls looked fine. Her raven halter dress, though, was crumpled from Lina's malevolent manhandling, but it was a good thing it was black, so the wrinkles weren't too obvious. Kyoko was also rapidly touching up her face, which was reddened from Lina's slaps. Fuwa felt a rush of hatred towards the blonde; he was going to kill the coward that was Lina Takarada when he got the chance. He watched angrily as Kyoko applied another layer of foundation over her skin. It was ridiculous; why should Kyoko cover up the marks that Lina had left on her? She should let Lory and Kouki see exactly what Lina had done to her, and for them to realize what kind of monster Kouki had remarried. But Fuwa knew that Kyoko didn't want to make a fuss. She simply wanted to get tonight over and done with. Fuwa didn't agree. Sometimes a fuss was exactly what one needed in order to solve their issues. If no one realized the gravity of the situation, then the vicious cycle would just repeat itself. Fuwa wanted to tell Kyoko just that, but she was still shaky from her attack. She would never think he was right.

And at this rate, she would always be bullied by Lina.

* * *

Kyoko stepped into the crowded ballroom, Fuwa's hand resting on her back and occasionally straying to her posterior. She had to keep moving the pervert's hand back to her waist. The woman half-wanted to tell him to not touch her at all, but the truth was, she needed his contact. It was reassuring that his presence was next to her now, and that he would protect her from Lina. How hilarious, she mused bitterly, that Fuwa, her frenemy, was her support now. It was humiliating, too, but she was going to take what she could get. Lina might be strong for a female, but Fuwa was more than a match for her.

Kyoko tightened her grip on her clutch. She felt almost light-headed.

Tsuruga Ren had been on the phone. He'd heard everything.

Heard Kyoko being attacked by someone. Heard Fuwa coming in. Heard Fuwa kissing her.

She wanted to just curl up and die all over again.

Kyoko groaned under her breath. There was just too much between herself and Dr. Tsuruga right now. Or rather, too much of her secrets were being exposed to him in just a few days, while she knew close to nothing about him. Perhaps that _was_ kind of the original plan, since she had wanted to call him regarding the therapy sessions he was offering her. She knew what she was signing up for. Therapy meant she had to tell Tsuruga all about herself, and that was… scary, but still plausible. That was under her own terms and conditions, and she could get by that. She was going to _tell_ him, not show him. However, from the one-sided phone call earlier, he had heard her when she was at her most pitiful and vulnerable. She wasn't telling him her deepest fears. She had just showed him. And there was a difference in that.

Showing made her far more naked than just telling.

Kyoko could never face Dr. Tsuruga again, let alone ask him for therapy anymore. This was too much. She didn't even want to imagine what his reaction might be after hearing all that on his phone.

"Kyoko-san, Fuwa-san," Sebastian, Lory's butler, said, gesturing to a dark-haired male and a beautiful blonde woman standing in front of Kyoko in the crowded ballroom. It was packed with expensively-attired people swaying to the background music and holding golden flutes of champagne. The combined scents of lavish perfume, cologne, and sweet wine in the air was almost too much for Kyoko to bear. "The son of the Hizuris, Kuon, and his date, Taira Manaka."

Having said his piece, the butler withdrew to greet more guests coming in from the entrance of the ornate ballroom.

"Yes, hello," Kyoko said dismissively to the vaguely familiar couple, distracted by her fears that Lina was going to pounce at her from somewhere.

"Mogami-san?"

Kyoko stiffened as she was unceremoniously pulled from her thoughts. She knew that deep, musical baritone voice anywhere, even if her brain was taking its time to process it. Knew it in the depths of her soul.

She looked up, did a double-take, and her jaw nearly unhinged itself. " _Dr. Tsuruga?_ "

Was she dreaming? Had Kyoko been thinking of him so much that she had started hallucinating? It didn't make sense. She blinked stupidly, taking a step back, her mouth wide open.

 _What the hell was he doing here?_

He was studying her, his dark eyes roving from the bronze curls of her hair, to her prettily made-up face, and finally down to her tiny black halter dress. Kyoko would have been more embarrassed and self-conscious if she wasn't so shocked. She stared hard at Tsuruga Ren herself, taking in the black topcoat and the multi-dollar three-piece suit he wore.

He looked so shatteringly handsome and dapper that she was slightly surprised she didn't just keel over right there.

But Kyoko wasn't the only woman who was clearly attracted to Dr. Tsuruga. The sight of his young, pretty date made Kyoko's stomach clench, and not in a good way. It was the same nurse who had been accompanying Dr. Tsuruga at the hospital the other day, and whom had called Kyoko _old_. Seeing this 'Manaka' together with Ren at a party outside the hospital turned Kyoko's blood to ice. It only further cemented her jealous notion that the pair shared a relationship that was beyond a professional one between colleagues. The fact that Manaka, who wore a scarlet wrap dress that fit her delicious curves perfectly, was tightly clutching Ren's arm didn't help matters either, and Kyoko resisted the urge to reach over and haul Manaka's claws away from Ren.

"You know who he is?" Fuwa asked, referring to the surgeon.

"Wait, hold on," Kyoko choked out. "Did Sebastian just say you are… Kuon Hizuri?"

Kuon Hizuri. Having been thinking of the cute little golden-haired boy she'd once met at the gardens outside the manor, Kyoko had then searched the Hizuris up online. While Kuu and Juliena Hizuri were as famous and in the spotlight as ever, their son remained a mystery. He had not joined show business like his parents, and there were hence almost no photographs of him online, save for the occasional picture taken when his parents had brought his toddler self to award shows in the past. Kyoko had tried to find out what he was doing for a living, but Juliena and Kuu were tight-lipped during interviews about their son's profession. For whatever reason, Kuon Hizuri kept himself very low-profile, and very detached from his parents' glamorous lives.

"That is my second name, yes," Dr. Tsuruga replied evenly. He wasn't smiling, Kyoko realised. He was the most expressionless as she had ever seen him. She noticed that his obsidian gaze was fixed somewhere, and she turned slightly, discovering with a jolt that he was staring at where Fuwa's hand rested on the small of her waist.

His answer to her question, however, took precedence over in her mind.

"You're the… the little boy with the butterfly," Kyoko stammered disbelievingly, still reeling from the revelation. This couldn't be. This had to be a dream. She was having immense difficulty stringing the image of the small, innocent, delicate blond child—that had so strongly stirred her maternal instincts—at the gardens of the Takarada Manor twenty-one years ago with the tall, powerful predator of a man that she had come to know now (who stirred a whole other kind of instinct in her, most of it too inappropriate to describe out loud).

This was insane. To think that all along she had been wondering how six-year-old Kuon would turn out to look like as an adult, and he had been right under her nose the whole time.

She had never been more aware of their age difference then.

"And you're the girl," Dr. Tsuruga said softly, his exotic eyes lit with an emotion Kyoko couldn't decipher. "I see now. So you _are_ real."

"What's going on?" Manaka demanded, looking at her date. She evidently didn't recognize Kyoko. "Tsuruga-san, who is she? What's your relationship with her?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Fuwa muttered.

"What say you," Dr. Tsuruga suggested smoothly to the psychiatrist without so much as a moment's pause, "that we swap our partners for a dance?"

Kyoko hesitated. She glanced around. The pleasant, uplifting melody of The Four Seasons by Antonio Vivaldi filled the vast, spacious ballroom. Lory's guests were waltzing lazily to the classical music track, many of them sipping fancy flutes of wine as they did so.

"Hell, no," Fuwa scowled. "I'm not leaving her side—"

"Wait, Fuwa," Kyoko chimed in. "Let me dance with him."

It wasn't that she wanted to dance. Heck, her heels—which weren't even that high—were somewhat hurting her feet, not to mention she had just been kicked in the stomach by Lina while she was having cramps. Her entire body felt sore and she wanted to lie down and never get up again. Therefore, dancing, or any other physical movement in particular, was not exactly tempting right now.

But Kyoko wanted answers. If Tsuruga Ren was really Kuon Hizuri (though he looked drastically different from his younger counterpart, not just in physique but also with his hair and eye color), which she still couldn't wrap her head around, then there was a lot she needed to say to him.

"You crazy?" Fuwa demanded. "Have you forgotten what happened earlier? We said we'd stick together."

"Yeah, I know," Kyoko said awkwardly, aware that Ren was hearing everything. "But it'll only be a few minutes, I promise. And I'll be safe with Dr. Tsuruga."

A pause.

"Fine." Fuwa rolled his eyes exasperatedly, giving in. "Dig your own grave, idiot."

With that, he grabbed a shrilly protesting Manaka's hand and dragged her to the dance floor.

There was a short silence, and Kyoko started, lifting her head and squeaking when she felt Dr. Tsuruga's arm suddenly sliding around her narrow waist, lightly touching the back of her crimson shawl.

"You look absolutely lovely tonight," he murmured, taking her hand, his long, spidery fingers lacing with her smaller ones. His obsidian eyes, darkened with irrefutable hunger, intently examined the ample curve of her breasts under her sweetheart neckline, down to the swishing ebony hem of her dress, and finally to her shapely legs, which looked impossibly long thanks to her heels. It was just an illusion, however, since she was petite in stature and height.

"You're the little boy," Kyoko repeated dazedly, letting the tall male gracefully guide her to the dance floor. He'd gone from an innocent, vulnerable kitten to a full-grown panther. "I just can't believe it."

"Is that so?"

She snapped out of her stupor and narrowed her eyes at him at his suspiciously bland tone. "Are you telling me you knew who I was all along?"

Tsuruga Ren shook his head. "No, Mogami-san. I promise you that I only just found out a few hours ago."

"But… How?"

"All along, since I was a child," he said quietly, "I thought you were a fantasy. A wonderful dream. An angel, even, that I met in the Takaradas' gardens. Back then, I asked my parents about you, describing you as a schoolgirl in an uniform. I told them I saw you here. They said it was impossible, since there was no female in the Takarada family of your age at the time. Because of that, I was convinced over time that you were merely a beautiful, enchanting fantasy I had conjured up in my six-year-old head. It was disappointing, but you were a fantasy I often looked back to; a fantasy that changed my life forever.

"And then for the first time in twenty-one years, I met you again—and Maria—in my consultation room. I felt an instant attraction, an instant chemistry… A pull towards you, I would say. It was unexplainable. You were faintly familiar, but, at the same time, very different. I didn't recognise you, and I admit, I didn't seek answers for how I felt. I was not even aware that there _were_ answers to be sought. But then today happened."

Kyoko willed herself not to flush at his calmly uttered words. It was hard, since Dr. Tsuruga had bluntly just told her he felt an attraction to her. She shouldn't be surprised, since he'd given her his number a week ago (among other things), but the revelation still made her head reel.

But this was wrong. Now that she knew he was the little boy she'd once met, their age gap loomed more ominously than ever before them. When she was sixteen, he had been a mere baby, a baby that she'd felt a motherly protectiveness towards! There was no way Kyoko could ever strike up a relationship with a child from her past, even if years had gone by and he had long entered adulthood. It was so inappropriate that she wanted to strangle herself for entertaining sexual thoughts towards someone so much younger than her.

So why then, did his touch on the small of her waist make her flesh tingle through her dress? Why did arousal pool between her legs just by having his toned, strong arm around her? Why were her thighs quivering?

"What do you mean, today happened?" Kyoko queried, grateful that her voice was steady.

Dr. Tsuruga's obsidian eyes raked the fine features of her oval face. "I was invited to Lory's birthday banquet on behalf of my parents, who were unfortunately unable to attend. In preparation for the banquet, my parents spoke to me over the phone about the sensitive events that had transpired within the Takarada clan. Even though I knew Lory, I never once imagined the patient I was treating—Maria—was his granddaughter. The name Takarada is not uncommon, not to mention I have never paid attention to the gossip regarding other aristocratic families. Being very busy with a life that is vastly separate from my parents and their associates, I had no idea what had happened in the Takarada family, nor who their relatives were other than Lory. But today, my mother informed me that Lory's son's divorced wife, Mogami Kyoko, would attend the banquet, along with their daughter, Maria Takarada."

Kyoko stilled in his arms, suppressing the urge to shiver.

The surgeon paused, then continued levelly. "Imagine my surprise hearing that. And from there on, everything clicked into place. You were at the Takaradas' manor twenty-one years ago, not because you were a relative of the Takaradas, but because at that time, you were… with Kouki Takarada, your future husband. It all made sense. In other words, my first love was not a fantasy I made up. You are real, Mogami Kyoko."

Kyoko's airways seemed to constrict. "I…"

She was completely stumped for words after his thorough explanation. She didn't even know what to think, nor how to process his explanation.

She had been… his first love?

"Now," Dr. Tsuruga spoke sharply, "If you don't mind, it is my turn to ask you some questions."

Kyoko nodded dumbly.

His dark eyes flickered down to the slim curves of her figure.

"You've concealed your wounds well. Where did Lina Takarada hurt you?"

Kyoko blanched. The words ' _Lina Takarada_ ' were enunciated with a chilling contempt that caused goosebumps to erupt on her skin.

Fuck. She had nearly forgotten that Tsuruga Ren had heard everything over the phone—Lina spitting profanities at Kyoko as she attacked her, Sho coming in to rescue her, and then Kyoko being kissed by the infuriating psychiatrist.

"She didn't hurt me anywhere," Kyoko lied. "I'm fine."

Instead of replying her, Dr. Tsuruga suddenly released her hand. The woman blinked, bewildered. He was as fast as lightning. Before she could even react, the male swiftly peeled the red silk wrap slightly away from both her arms, just enough so that the rough, reddened abrasions peeked through on her otherwise milky skin.

Kyoko immediately snatched the edges of her shawl back from his long, adroit fingers and frantically closed the material over her injured arms once more.

"What the hell are you doing?" she snarled, incensed.

Tsuruga Ren's lips were taut. He said nothing, but slipped his fingers wordlessly through hers again, guiding her to sway along with him to the tranquil music. Several other guests glanced at them curiously.

"Next question," he murmured at last, and she wondered if she was imagining the protective way his large, masculine hands tightened over her own diminutive ones. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I said I'm fine," Kyoko declared through gritted teeth, forcing herself not to lose her temper any more than she already had. "Fuwa helped me wash my wounds. It's all better now."

"I see." Tsuruga's sculpted lips curved mirthlessly. "Now. Who exactly is your date, and what is your relationship with him?"

Kyoko flushed. This was about the kiss, she knew for sure. "I—I don't think it's any of your business."

Tsuruga Ren looked sardonically amused.

"Ah, but this is where you are mistaken," he said. "This is very much my business, my darling, since I don't intend to share you with anyone."

Kyoko's face turned as red as a tomato. " _Excuse_ me," she spluttered, ignoring the contradictory thrill running through her spine at his statement, and the heat he'd elicited in her abdomen. "You're not sharing me with anyone, because there's nothing between us! Now that I know who you are, we can't ever start anything. You're… You're just a _child_ , for God's sake! That's all I see you as, okay?"

"A child?" Tsuruga Ren echoed mockingly. His unruffled reaction made her squirm, for he looked far more entertained than insulted. The doctor dipped his elegant head closer towards hers, cognac eyes gleaming. "That's rather odd, don't you think?"

Kyoko bristled defensively at him despite her rattled nerves. "What do you mean?"

"You can pretend to dismiss me as a child all you want, Mogami-san," he said silkily, in a low, wicked tone that only she could hear. His next words were deliberate and brutally candid. "But it doesn't change the fact that you want me, darling. Don't you?"

Kyoko flinched. Her entire body was suffused in heat.

Because Ren was completely right. Despite having gone through a hell of a day, she still wanted him, child or not. She had no idea how he knew, and it terrified her how transparent her emotions were to him. Kyoko was almost thankful when the song in the background came to a close, signalling the end of their brief waltz together. It simply meant that that, for now, she would be given a short reprieve from her terrors.

She could flee.

What terrified her more, however, was that even if she fled, she knew her feelings for him would never let her go.

And as it seemed, neither would Tsuruga Ren.

* * *

Things only went further downhill as time passed, and dinner commenced.

Maria had gone ballistic when she had spotted the surgeon over the polished dining table once the banquet had officially begun. The guests sat by a few gigantic dining tables in another majestic ballroom, where said mahogany tables, covered by pale silk tablecloths, were positioned near one another so that everyone was seated in relatively close proximity. Crystal chandeliers hung above the occupants—members and distant relatives of the large Takarada clan, other patrician families, and eminent figures from show business—in a mesmerizing, shimmering mass of light. After Lory Takarada, still in his sailor costume (though he'd added a white captain's coat over it), had made a theatrical speech thanking everyone for coming to his birthday banquet, the guests had applauded him. Once he'd prompted them with a flourish to enjoy their meal, they had then tucked in.

Succulent, creamy mushroom soup was served as an appetizer, followed by the main course consisting of a medium rare steak, Caesar salad, caviar, garlic buttered lobster, white truffles with scrambled eggs, and sautéed fish fillets. Red wine was served as well, though Maria was obviously given orange juice. Not that she drank much of it though, since she had caught sight of Dr. Tsuruga sitting just a few seats away along the same table, and had squealed so loud that everyone, including Lory Takarada (who sat at the head of the main table) and Kouki, turned to look at her.

"What's wrong, Maria?" Kouki asked. Beside him, Lina said nothing, though she was constantly glowering in her chair as she kept her eyes mutinously trained on an uneasy Kyoko.

Only Kyoko, despite the hidden abrasions on her arms and the soreness of her face and belly from Lina's frenzied assault earlier, was too preoccupied with her jealousy at seeing the nurse Manaka sitting beside Ren some seats away, chatting and simpering with him. She was being so irrational about her priorities that it even made herself cringe.

"That's Dr. Tsuruga Ren, Daddy!" Maria announced excitedly, pointing at the doctor, who glanced over, amused.

Kyoko hastly averted her gaze to her porcelain plate so as to avoid eye contact with Ren.

"Kuon?" Lory stated quizzically, lowering his amber glass of scotch. Kouki, too, looked intrigued. "How do you happen to know Kuon, Maria?"

Dr. Fuwa, who was sitting next to Kyoko, was listening keenly while chewing heartily on the steak that he had cut with his knife. It wasn't strange that he was curious, since Kyoko still hadn't divulged to him her connection with Tsuruga Ren.

"Kuon? No, he's Dr. Tsuruga! He's my doctor!" Maria said delightedly. She waved at the dark-haired male fervently from where he was seated along the other side of the table. "Dr. Tsuruga! Hello!"

Kyoko still refused to look at Ren, but she assumed he was waving back, or something. Whatever he did, he only made Maria more excited, and her chubby arm knocked over her glass of orange juice, spilling the liquid onto the tablecloth and splashing it into Maria's floral print frock.

"Maria, honey!" Kyoko exclaimed in concern, turning to her dismayed daughter straightaway. The mother set the fallen glass upright hastily.

Abruptly, the butler, Sebastian, materialized in front of them, seemingly from out of nowhere.

"It's alright, Miss Maria. I'll handle this," he said kindly, taking in the abashed little girl's hand. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Kyoko made to join them as Maria got up and left with the manservant, but the tip of what felt like a thin stiletto heel suddenly jabbed into the bare skin on the top of her foot, and Kyoko jerked in her seat from the unexpected pain. Her head turned and her hazel eyes flashed to the woman sitting directly opposite her, and met the cool, smug gaze belonging to Lina Takarada. From under the table, no one had any idea Lina was stabbing her high heel viciously into Kyoko's foot. The copper-haired woman tried to withdraw her feet, but Lina's legs were long, and her ex-husband's second wife ended up grinding her stiletto persistently into the edge of Kyoko's shoe.

"Kuon, I had no idea you were my granddaughter's doctor," Lory beamed radiantly, oblivious to what was going on under the table. Another servant had also appeared and was dabbing at the stains of orange juice on the tablecloth. "We should have a chat when you're free."

Dr. Tsuruga inclined his head in acknowledgement, smiling politely.

"Speaking of grandchildren," a guest piped up. Kyoko recognized her as one of Kouki's aunts, the middle-aged, plump Miss Kagura Takarada. She was a relative—Lory's younger cousin—in the Takarada family that had approved immensely of Kouki's divorce with Kyoko. With the seemingly thousands of pearls lying around her thick neck, as well as the fat jade earrings peeking out from under her wig, she was a woman who clearly enjoyed flaunting her wealth. "Kouki, Lina, when are the two of you actually going to give Lory any?"

Kyoko's tummy tightened. She felt as if Kagura had punched her right in her stomach.

This wasn't right. She'd moved on from Kouki. She was sure she had. He'd remarried to Lina, and as much as that had once destroyed Kyoko, she'd eventually gone numb from the pain. That was what depression was about—a feeling of drowning emptiness and numbness that threatened to engulf her. So why then, did the sharp pain abruptly return with a vengeance the moment she realized Kouki might one day have a second child with Lina?

A large, ringed hand squeezed her pale one, and Kyoko glanced up, her face pinched. Fuwa wasn't looking at her, but she felt herself becoming reassured from his touch.

Lina batted her gold-dusted lashes shyly, looking so sickeningly bashful that Kyoko wanted to throw up. "It's only a matter of time, I'm sure, Aunt Kagura."

"Oh, but the two of you have been together for years now!" Kagura gushed. "With both of your genetics, you would have such beautiful children."

Kouki looked uncomfortable. "Aunt Kagura—"

Lina's stiletto heel was still lodged agonizingly into the tip of Kyoko's black pumps when unexpectedly, Fuwa—from beside Kyoko—kicked Lina's shin with his military boot. Hard.

Lina screamed.

The chatter from the other guests abruptly ceased, and forks and knives were lowered as everyone stared. Lory's head turned to look inquisitively at his daughter-in-law, while Kouki touched his wife's arm instantly. "What's wrong, Lina?"

"She kicked me!" Lina burst out in fury, pointing a manicured finger at Kyoko. She was bent over, clutching her shin with her other hand.

" _I_ kicked you," Fuwa corrected coldly.

Kouki glared at Fuwa. He stood up from his chair, blistering, and hissed out, "Why did you kick my wife?"

Fuwa sneered, unfazed, at him. "Are you really that fucking dense?"

Stunned gasps erupted from all around the few dining tables, some of the women covering their mouths, appalled. Oh, God. Kyoko wanted to dig a hole and just bury herself in it forever. Swearing was considered a major and unforgivable faux pas in settings between aristocrats.

Kagura Takarada's cynical voice cut in. "Oh, I think we all know what the real problem here is, Kouki… Or rather, _who_. It's your ex-wife."

Dead silence filled the originally agreeable atmosphere in the ballroom, and the tension now cut into Kyoko's skin like tiny knives. Heads swiveled to scrutinize her, many of them accusatory gazes from the other relatives of the Takaradas, and she suddenly felt very, very sick. What little salad she'd eaten threatened to rise back in her throat.

"The man who kicked Lina is Mogami Kyoko's date, isn't it?" Kagura Takarada snorted scathingly. "It's just like your ex-wife to bring a date as barbaric and crude as herself. People who enjoy violence and have a total lack of class stick together, apparently."

Lina's profile was carefully subdued, though her thickly made-up eyes were lit up with barely concealed glee at Kagura's insults.

"I'm shocked, really, Lory," Kagura added derisively, "that you invited Mogami Kyoko to your banquet. Now her date has ruined your night. And all of ours, really."

Kyoko's limbs began to shake.

It had been a mistake coming here, after all. She had been right to not want to come. Why had she even agreed to this invitation? She'd known that everyone hated her. Takarada Kagura could never stand Kyoko because the latter lacked noble blood and a patrician background. As far as Kagura and the rest of the Takaradas (except maybe Lory) were concerned, Kyoko was the ex-wife who was now no longer part of the family. She had been discarded. Unwanted. Lina had shown to her just that back in Lory's study.

And yet Kyoko had come crawling back here, like a pathetic scrap of dirt.

She was wondering whether she should just flee the ballroom, when, out of the blue, a velvety, lush baritone voice spoke.

"I do beg your pardon," Tsuruga Ren murmured serenely, sipping from his wine glass and sampling the red wine lazily as he watched the scene play out before him. "But 'barbaric' and 'crude', you say? That's rather ironic, if you ask me."

Kyoko inhaled sharply. The last thing she had expected was for Dr. Tsuruga to say anything. His date, Manaka, looked just as confused as everyone else.

Lory's brows arched, his visage mirroring the surprise she felt. "Why do you say that, Kuon?"

Now with everybody's eyes on him, Ren shrugged his broad shoulders gracefully, then reached into the pocket of his very expensive, midnight topcoat and pulled out his sleek smartphone. Without further explanation, the surgeon tapped something on the screen, and a couple of seconds later, the piercing sounds of someone screaming blasted from the device's speakers, making several people jump. Within the suffocating silence of the ballroom, every guest could hear each word echoing distinctly and shrilly off the walls.

It was a woman's voice. A stupefied and shell-shocked Kyoko recognized it immediately, her throat convulsing. Of course she did. She'd been the recipient of it just an hour ago.

"You bitch!" Lina Takarada's recorded voice was screeching. The noises of flesh slapping flesh struck the air, and another woman—herself, Kyoko knew—cried out in discernible pain. "You fucking slut! You're nothing but a thorn in my husband's flesh. _My_ husband, you hear me? He'll never be yours again, because you're just a fucking useless old hag! Did you come back here all dressed up because you think Kouki will want you back? Well, you're fucking wrong, you whore!"

Lina Takarada's beautiful face drained of color from where she sat. Her ebony-painted lips parted, but nothing came out. She looked as if she was about to pass out.

There was no denying it was Lina's voice, too. Anyone who was remotely familiar with the woman would recognize her voice from the phone.

"If it weren't for stupid, little Maria, Lory would never have asked you back to his manor! But you just wait, you cunt. Sooner or later Kouki and I will have our own child, and you won't be so special anymore! It's only a matter of time before our child will replace Kouki's retarded daughter! What's so wonderful about Maria, anyway? I'm sick of you using that dumb little girl as a trump card against me!"

Kyoko's fists clenched, her heart pounding and nausea surfacing in her throat. She was so glad her precious baby had left the dining hall earlier and wouldn't have to hear all this. She supposed Tsuruga Ren knew Maria had gone, which was probably why he'd only played the recording now.

The recording didn't stop there. It went on and on, playing every word of Lina's rant, as well as the audible impact of each blow she'd inflicted on Kyoko. All the occupants sitting by the dining tables had frozen and turned as rigid as ice, including Lory, Kouki, and Fuwa. Kagura Takarada looked utterly gobsmacked.

Kyoko's mouth was dry as the logic behind what had happened sank into her mind.

Dr. Tsuruga Ren had recorded the phone call earlier. And he'd waited for the perfect opportunity to strike.

The truth was out now, and there was no turning back.

* * *

 _:tbc:_

* * *

 **A/N:** Hey, guys! I know I have been totally MIA for the past few months, and I apologize for that. I could say a lot of reasons why, but honestly the truth is that my muse fell apart. I wouldn't call what I had writer's block, because I knew exactly how the plot was going to unravel in this chapter, but I simply felt too unmotivated to actually sit down and write. However, my muse finally cooperated enough for me to get back to work throughout the last few days. All the PMs and reviews I received helped too, so thank you to everyone who didn't forget me!

Oh, and I did say that I had a lot of drama planned for 'Stretch Marks', right? Well, you know what I meant, now. (And it's only just begun.) And yes, SM!Ren is very manipulative. But if you've read FotPB, I'm sure you're not surprised.

In any case, thank you all for reading, and please drop a review if you have anything you'd like to say!


	8. Chapter 8

_:Chapter 8:_

Juliena Hizuri sat lazily on a red velvet chaise lounge inside her exquisite penthouse apartment, smoking a sleek, long cigarette holder in her slender, scarlet-nailed hand. Her luscious thick mass of golden hair was swept to one side down the curve of her lovely, alabaster neck, and large silvery hoop earrings glinted against her fair skin. She donned nothing but a lacy, ebony lingerie robe that accentuated the curves of her voluptuous figure. Her alluring face was covered with relatively little makeup for her standards, which included a matte brown nude lipstick, a bit of foundation, and some eyeliner.

Neverthless, Juliena Hizuri looked as breathtakingly seductive as ever.

The beauteous actress was speaking on the phone with her husband, her long bare legs tucked daintily under her knees.

"I won't stand for this, Kuu, I won't," she cried dramatically, her resplendent golden head flung back against the crimson velvet of the settee. "Oh—I think I'll kill myself!"

"Now, now, darling," Hizuri Kuu chided her. He was currently seated in his limousine on the way to a press conference to promote his latest blockbuster movie. Juliena had complained at the last minute that she was suffering from one of her 'headaches', and had refused to join him in making an appearance. "You can't always expect things to go your way."

"Are you saying you're siding with Kuon?" Juliena wailed out. "But, _Manaka_ —"

"I know you are very fond of Manaka," Kuu said gently. "But you can't force Kuon to love someone when he does not."

Juliena pouted mutinously.

Taira Manaka's mother was one of Juliena's closest supermodel friends back when they had strutted the catwalk. The pair often modeled together for the same exclusive, high-class designer brands all over the world, not to mention they were also label-mates at the time. When Juliena had given birth to a son and her best friend had given birth to a daughter, both women had been delighted. They had vowed that their children would marry so that they could become in-laws. As a result, Kuon and Manaka had basically grown up together because Juliena frequently arranged playdates between the both of them. The problem was that Kuon tended to ignore Manaka as a child. He'd never seemed interested in her, and it only got worse when they became adults. As far as a prying Juliena knew, they'd slept together a few times during their teenage years, and that was it. Manaka had often gone crying to her mother—and to Juliena—that Kuon had slept with many other girls back when they were studying in medical school together, and also when they had started working in the hospital. An incensed Juliena had confronted her son, but he'd gently told Juliena that he was not dating Manaka, and neither had he promised her anything. Therefore, he was not obliged to stay faithful to Manaka when there was not even a relationship to stay loyal to. To top it off, Kuon had had the gall to say his mother was the reason for Manaka's heartbreak!

"You keep giving Manaka the illusion that there is something between us, Mother," Kuon had said matter-of-factly. "Let it go, and eventually she will let go of me, too."

How ridiculous! How could Juliena be at fault here?!

No, the problem had been with someone else the whole time, and a foolish, naïve Juliena had only realised it now.

Back when Kuon was six years old, he'd wandered off to the gardens of the Takarada Manor when Juliena and Kuu had visited Lory Takarada and his family. When he returned, he'd started uncharacteristically gushing about some pretty teenage girl he'd seen at the gardens. All Juliena had understood was that the girl had been wearing a high school uniform. Both Kuu and Juliena had been baffled. From what they knew, there was no girl in the Takarada family of her age. She had told her toddler son as soothingly as she could that he must have imagined the whole thing. For weeks Kuon refused to believe her, and he'd insisted in going back to the manor so that he could see the mystery girl again, much to Juliena's exasperation. Thankfully, as he got older, Kuon finally stopped talking about her. But something had changed. He refused to go into acting and to join show business—something that surprisingly did not disappoint her as much as she had expected it to—and had told his parents that he wanted to save lives for a living instead. Juliena had been astounded. It was all because of the butterfly he had been holding onto that day, she'd surmised. Watching it die must have saddened Kuon enough for him to experience a sudden and unexpected breakthrough.

She'd figured that he was still small and childish then, and would most likely change his mind about his future occupation as he became older. But Kuon never wavered from his goal. He came out top of his classes every year in school, and before long he graduated his high school at the early age of fifteen. Once he had earned his bachelor's degree and had aced his MCAT, he had then enrolled in one of the best medical colleges in the world. It didn't take long for Kuon to earn his medical degree, and he'd subsequently gone on to start his residency. His hard work, resolve, and natural genius allowed him to obtain his medical license and rise in the medical field with a stunning velocity throughout the past few years, and just last year he had officially assumed the role of a thoracic surgeon. Both Kuu and Juliena were extremely proud of him.

All seemed well.

But then today happened. Juliena had called Kuon to inform him about the sensitive series of events that had ocurred in the Takarada clan regarding the whole disgraceful divorce Kouki Takarada and his first wife had gone through some time ago. This was due to the fact that Kuon would—on his parents' behalf—be attending the birthday dinner party Lory was hosting. Neither Kuu nor Juliena could accept Lory's invitation as Kuu had a press conference to attend to at the same time and Juliena had originally planned to join her husband there.

That was until she heard Kuon's reaction to what she'd told him over the phone. Her whole nightmare began, and she'd been so distressed and unhappy that she decided not to go for the press conference with her husband, after all.

The mystery girl at the gardens of the Takarada Manor was real—in fact, she had been under their noses the whole time.

"Don't you comprehend, Kuu? The woman Kuon's been obsessed with all along is Kouki Takarada's ex-wife!" Juliena exclaimed theatrically into her iPhone, waving her exotic cigarette holder lightly as she did so. "His _ex-wife_! I heard she even has a daughter from their past marriage!"

"You don't know if he's obsessed with her," Kuu responded patiently from the other line. "She was just a silly crush he had when he was six—"

"No, he definitely is," Juliena insisted. "Why else would he ignore poor Manaka for so long, when she's perfect for him? Not to mention he's been with so many different women in the past, but he broke up with all of them!"

"Julie—"

"I won't accept this!" Juliena went on obstinately, pursing her delicately curved mouth. "Why, she's closer to my age than to his! And let's not forget she's a divorcee with a child herself!"

"She's a very pitiful girl, Julie," Kuu reprimanded her softly. "Have you forgotten how sorry you felt for her when the divorce happened?"

Juliena took a drag of her cigarette in an attempt to put off answering.

Yes, she had pitied the other woman greatly back then. No one deserved to be abandoned by their husband for a younger woman and then cast out by his family like an unwanted sack of dirt. Juliena had nothing against Kouki Takarada's ex-wife personally; in fact, she sympathized with her immensely.

"I may feel sorry for the girl, but that doesn't mean I want her as my future daughter-in-law," Juliena pointed out archly. "For God's sake, she's ten years older than him! Also, have you realised that if Kuon marries her, our son would become a _stepfather_ to her daughter? And their marriage would make our relations dreadfully awkward with the Takaradas. My point is, no mother would want her son to marry a divorcee with a child, Kuu!"

"I think you're going too far here with the talk of marriage, Julie," Kuu said amusedly. "We don't even know how the former Mrs Takarada feels about Kuon."

"Maybe, but have you met a woman who isn't in love with Kuon, Kuu?" Julienna sighed desolately. "He's always been a charmer."

"I'm sure the former Mrs Takarada has more concerns on her mind than the prospect of remarrying, Julie."

"Kuu—"

"Look, Julie," Kuu answered, sounding distracted. "I know you're worried, but don't think too much, sweetheart. I'm reaching the conference in a few minutes now. We'll talk again later, alright? In the meantime, try not to get too worked up over nothing."

Juliena sighed again, but she assented gracefully, exchanged goodbyes with her husband, and hung up the call. Exhaling a few smoke rings from her perfect lips, the blonde thought hard on what to do. Her gut instinct as a mother told her that there was definitely not nothing going on.

Perhaps it was time to give dear Manaka a call soon for an update.

* * *

Kyoko gripped her thin knees from under the hem of her black skirt. Her heart was racing and her skin was breaking out into cold sweat as the recording of Lina's malicious rant on Dr. Tsuruga's smartphone played out harshly into the now silent ballroom. She numbly forced herself to tune the crude, hurtful screaming out of her mind, and instead averted her eyes furtively to everyone else sitting by the elegant tables.

Identical expressions of shock were etched on their faces. Kyoko felt almost sorry for the guests that had been invited to the party—more specifically, the guests who were not from the Takarada clan, and who were either members of the entertainment industry or from other aristocratic families. They had come to this dinner party expecting a great meal and servings of excellent wine and other forms of entertainment. What they had not signed up for was to directly witness the petty and horrific drama between Kouki's former and current wives. In the settings where interactions among noble families were held, dirty laundry was never to be aired publicly. Uncouthness and the revelation of anything remotely scandalous were both considered a major faux pas. To have such vile screaming blasted in their faces over what was supposed to be an amicable dinner must therefore be beyond appalling. As for the Takarada family, they had to be mortified. Kagura Takarada looked to be on the verge of passing out, her bloated countenance a nasty shade of green, while Kouki seemed to be choking on his breath. Lory's features—after getting over his shock—now looked uncharacteristically livid beneath his sailor cap.

Lina Takarada's pretty face had turned ashen. She was shaking violently in her seat and refusing to look at anyone, her manicured hands trembling like she was suffering from a mini-seizure. Kyoko wanted to pity her—she really did—but she couldn't find it in herself to summon a shred of sympathy. She had the sore abrasions on her arms under her shawl and the pain in her abdomen from where Lina had kicked her to vouch for that.

And then the shrill recording on Dr. Tsuruga's phone finally came to end, and an ominous hush filled the air like a heavy storm cloud. The silence sounded deafening. No one moved so much as an inch by the lavish dining tables.

Despite the suffocating atmosphere, a shaken Kyoko saw that Tsuruga Ren was the only one among the ballroom's occupants who appeared the most unaffected by what had just happened. The angular planes of his face were unreadable.

Suddenly, Lory Takarada rose from the head of the main dining table, his eyes brooding and hostile under the brim of his cap, his mustached lips pressed in a tight line. Without a single word to anyone, he turned and stormed off from his chair, his white sailor captain's coat fluttering behind him.

"Father!" Kouki was already standing up, his voice a maelstrom of frustration, anger, and worry.

Lina got to her feet instantly too, her stilettos tottering on the polished marble floor, and she ran unsteadily after her father-in-law, her heavily ringed fingers outstretched desperately towards him.

"Father, _please_!" she begged shrilly, grabbing the back of his coat. "It's a lie! This is all a—a _hoax_! I swear it!"

"That will do, Mrs Takarada," Sebastian, Lory's faithful butler, said quietly. He had materialized by Lina's side from seemingly nowhere, and he took her arm gently but firmly, forcing her to let go of Lory's expensive coat.

With that, Lory wordlessly exited the ballroom through one of the large doors, leaving everyone behind to face the mess.

Kyoko could feel a flush growing on her cheeks now. She didn't want to look at the others anymore. Even though it was clear that she was the victim in the recording, and was not actually in the wrong—she had not uttered a single word back in response to Lina's brutal insults and taunts, nor had she physically struck back—no one liked being humiliated by a bully in front of so many people, especially not if the audience were all influential stars in Japan. However, whatever mortification she was feeling now, Lina must feel a thousand times worse. She had just been caught harassing and physically assaulting someone in front of not just her own family, but also by their visitors. In the Takarada clan, all women were expected to behave in a dignified, ladylike fashion. In fact, Kouki had left Kyoko for Lina because, according to him, the former was too 'old' and too 'unsophisticated' for his patrician family's taste. It was hence extremely ironic that his new wife—Kyoko's supposedly much better replacement—had just displayed a completely barbaric and vulgar side to the public. Lina's humiliation was definitely also heightened by the fact that her father-in-law had basically shunned her in front of everyone else.

As if right on cue, Lina whirled around, fists clenched so tightly that her bony knuckles were white, her intricately made-up eyes glittering with cold rage. She looked so demented with wrath that Kyoko half-expected her to start foaming at the mouth.

Her terrifying glare was fixed right on Kyoko.

Before Kyoko could even register what was happening, Lina had pounced upon her, her long, claw-like hands curling around Kyoko's thin neck. She sank her ringed fingers ruthlessly into Kyoko's vulnerable flesh, crushing her airways so that she choked the copper-haired female.

Chaos erupted all around the ballroom.

Kyoko was dimly aware of people yelling and shouting in a blind panic, and several others grabbing hold of Lina and attempting to drag her off Kyoko. Hazily she could see Dr. Tsuruga—he'd somehow gotten to where Kyoko was sitting in a split second—and Dr. Fuwa both gripping Lina's arms, trying to tear her away from Kyoko without hurting the mother even more.

Spots of red filled Kyoko's vision, and not just because she was being suffocated slowly to death.

She was so sick of it—sick of being emotionally and physically abused, sick of being discarded because she wasn't good enough, sick of being humiliated, sick of being depressed—that the sudden spurt of hatred and resentment just consumed her entire body like a tidal wave.

Kyoko lashed out her leg and kicked the other woman squarely in the stomach, causing Lina to release her agonizing, iron-clad grasp on Kyoko's neck and fall back with a loud, shocked cry. The blonde hit the floor immediately, her stiletto heels giving way beneath her. Strands of her golden hair had escaped her splendid French twist, and one of her diamond chandelier earrings had disappeared in the midst of their altercation.

Oxygen flooded Kyoko's lungs once more, and she gulped numerous times in sweet relief. Her bare neck throbbed in pain, however; Lina's sharp, talon-like nails had done a number on her soft skin, not to mention her hands—and the unyielding metallic protrusions of her rings—had definitely bruised Kyoko from how tightly she'd been strangling her.

Kyoko jumped when she discovered that Dr. Tsuruga was touching her. He was gently brushing aside the copper curls of her hair to examine her slender neck more closely, his sensual mouth taut with displeasure. Kyoko wondered if she was imagining the fury in his dark obsidian eyes as he scrutinised her injured skin.

It was then when she heard Lina moaning in pain and clutching her flat abdomen from where she was crumpled on the floor. Kyoko's hazel eyes widened, her heart lurching into her mouth in shock, when she noticed the see-through mesh of Lina's full-body gown darkening rapidly into a sinister crimson at the area between her shapely thighs. The redness was spreading at a persistent rate.

Horrified gasps resounded within the dining hall.

"Lina!" Kouki was kneeling next to his wife, his complexion as pallid as a sheet. "What happened? Why are you bleeding?"

"She did this," Lina sobbed out, still holding her stomach and writhing on the marble floor as if she was being internally scalded by boiling hot water. Teary black streaks of melted mascara flowed down her cheeks. "That bitch did this to me, Kouki! Oh, it _hurts_ —it hurts so much—someone save me, please—"

Kyoko's senses spun. What happened? Had she kicked Lina so hard that she had broken something? Why was Lina bleeding?

Dr. Tsuruga finally bent down to join Kouki on the floor, and with a clinical detachment, he deftly lifted the hem of Lina's gown from around her skinny ankles and began rolling the bloodied material back from her legs.

"What are you doing, you lecher?" Kouki roared to Ren.

"He's a doctor, Mr Takarada," Manaka—Ren's date—piped up timidly. She'd appeared next to Ren, looking apprehensive and slightly uneasy by what was going on. "And I'm a nurse."

Everyone had gathered around a fallen Lina, their mouths agape at the scene. Dr. Fuwa's arms were folded as he watched the collapsed woman grimly. As a psychiatrist, physical wounds were not his specialty, and it was best to leave it to the surgeon.

Kouki's hands clenched. "Then one of you tell me what's wrong with my wife!"

Dr. Tsuruga was examining the source of the blood, which seemed to be from between Lina's legs; now that the hem of her gown had been pushed up, Kyoko was stricken to see the stark sight of blood gruesomely painted all over Lina's inner thighs.

None of this felt real. How could Lina be bleeding so extensively from a mere kick? Lina had kicked Kyoko in the stomach earlier too back in Lory's study, but Kyoko hadn't bled at all, at least not from the kick! Had Kyoko struck Lina so hard that she'd damaged some of her internal organs? Kyoko's pulse rocketed with fear at the plausibility. She wasn't sure—nor could she recollect—just how forcefully she'd kicked Lina in her oxygen-deprived frenzy.

"Vaginal bleeding," Ren said abruptly, and Kyoko's head reeled. This was not what she had been expecting to hear. "Is Mrs Takarada expecting, Mr Takarada?"

A terrible hush fell across the room.

 _Expecting_. The word hit Kyoko hard as the gravity of what she had just done began to sink into her like a sharp blade. She had to clutch the side of the table to steady herself before she toppled over from her chair in a dead faint. The silky tablecloth wrinkled under her white-knuckled hands.

Kouki's jaw dropped. He looked stunned. "No—she isn't… I mean, I don't know..."

Takarada Kagura sucked in a breath noisily, her plump hand grabbing her pearls like they were her lifeline. "You don't mean—"

"We need to get Mrs Takarada to a hospital now," Ren said quietly. "I'm not a gynaecologist, but there is a high possibility that she is suffering a miscarriage right now."

* * *

Lina was having a miscarriage. A miscarriage. She had been pregnant.

She was miscarrying, and it was entirely Kyoko's fault.

Kyoko had kicked Lina right in the stomach, hadn't she?

She was the one who had thoughtlessly shattered the life in Lina's womb.

Lina had done many horrible things to Kyoko. She'd stolen Kyoko's husband from her, had torn Maria's parents apart, and had humiliated Kyoko time after time. She had insulted and mocked Kyoko, had called her the most degrading of names. She had kicked, slapped, and choked Kyoko, had physically assaulted her. Yet Kyoko could put all that behind her if she needed to. She wouldn't fight back. She wouldn't retaliate. Perhaps she wouldn't even hold a grudge if it came down to it. But there was one exception to this rule, and that was if Lina ever laid a finger on Maria (though Lina admittedly never did so, because Maria was Kouki's daughter, too). If Lina had touched Maria, Kyoko would hurt her, and really, really badly at that.

The point was, Lina could torture Kyoko all she wanted, but hurting her daughter? That was the one thing Kyoko would never forgive.

And yet this was what Kyoko had done to Lina. She'd destroyed a baby's life—an innocent, fragile, harmless life that had nothing to do with a vicious Lina's transgressions. She'd robbed a mother of her child, had taken Lina's baby from her. As a mother herself, Kyoko knew just how deplorable her own actions had been. It didn't matter that Lina and Kouki had not known Lina was pregnant; they knew now, and they had lost their child before it was even given the chance to live. Kyoko had destroyed the baby. And because of what Kyoko had done, none of Lina's past transgressions against her mattered anymore. Lina's sins were tame compared to Kyoko's.

Kyoko was a murderer. A killer.

She sat on her chair dazedly. She could hear what was going on, but none of the words registered in her mind.

People were mumbling amongst themselves, sounding scared, alarmed, and agitated. No one appeared sure on what to do. The view of all the expensively-dressed aristocrats looking so helpless and bewildered was almost comical. It seemed inevitable that the scandalous details of the dinner party today would leak to the press tomorrow; there were just too many celebrities involved at the scene for the information not to be exposed to the tabloids. People were going to talk, and soon Kyoko's name would be plastered across the tabloid headlines as the culprit responsible for ending another woman's pregnancy. Maybe not her face since no one had taken any photographs here, but her name would be announced everywhere in the media. She might get fired from her workplace. And without a job, she wouldn't be able to feed herself and Maria. Oh, but that was assuming Kouki hadn't claimed custody of Maria and taken her away from Kyoko by then. Who would trust a murderer to mother their child, anyway?

Kouki was speaking urgently to Tsuruga Ren. He scooped his wife—who was still moaning uncontrollably in pain—up into his arms, not seeming too concerned that he was getting blood stains on his costly tuxedo.

"I'm going to drive Lina to the hospital," he said. "The nearest one is ten minutes away, I think. Dr. Tsuruga, please come with us. We would feel more reassured with your assistance."

Kyoko sensed Ren glancing at her, but she didn't meet his gaze. She stared blankly ahead of her, not wanting to see what was written on his face.

Would there be disapprobation and disappointment? Or disgust that Kyoko had robbed Lina of her baby? Horror and revulsion that he had been attracted to a woman who was an even bigger monster than Lina herself? Regret that he had actually associated himself with Kyoko in the first place? Or maybe scorn that Kyoko deserved everything—her husband leaving her for another woman, her clinical depression, the abuse she had received from Lina—after the atrocity Kyoko had just committed? He probably pitied poor, sweet Maria for being raised by such a reprehensible mother. All these negative thoughts threatened to engulf Kyoko, making her feel nauseated and light-headed.

She felt Dr. Tsuruga leaning over, and she hazily realized that he was speaking to Dr. Fuwa.

"Bring her home," Tsuruga Ren said in a low voice. "Watch over her."

"I know," Fuwa replied tersely, running a hand through his disheveled blond hair. He looked irritated and annoyed about everything.

"I deeply apologize, ladies and gentlemen," Kouki shouted, addressing the bemused crowd. "Due to a family emergency, we will have to cut short this banquet. I promise that we will make up for your ruined evening. Please expect a compensatory gift at each of your doorsteps tomorrow. Once again, we dearly apologize, and goodnight."

Dr. Tsuruga turned gracefully away from Fuwa to join Kouki's side. The nurse Manaka scurried after them, her heels clicking on the floor. Sebastian promptly ushered them—and Lina, who was still being carried by Kouki—out of the ballroom.

Kagura Takarada turned on Kyoko instantly, her earrings bobbing against her powdered cheeks.

"You'd better be prepared," she snarled. "We're going to sue you. Don't you ever forget that Kouki and Lina lost their baby because of _you_!"

"Go ahead and sue her," Fuwa shot back. "But we have plenty of eye witnesses to support the fact that Lina Takarada was choking Kyoko. This means that what Kyoko did was basically self-defense. Don't forget Dr. Tsuruga's recording of Lina assaulting Kyoko too, because we'll be showing that in court. So we'll see what the judge says about that, won't we?"

Kagura opened her mouth, but she was rendered speechless by Fuwa's rebuttal.

Having said his piece, Dr. Fuwa took Kyoko's hand and hoisted her to her feet from the chair. She stumbled, but he steadied her by sliding an arm around her narrow waist.

Now that Lory and Kouki were gone, the guests were leaving as well. Picking up their purses, they left their porcelain plates of half-eaten culinary offerings and half-empty wine glasses on the extravagant dining tables and hurried together through the vast doors of the opulent ballroom, looking perturbed and shaken. The servants working under the Takarada clan were escorting them out, all the while apologizing to the guests for their ruined night. More servants awaited them in the hallway to return their hats and coats. On the other hand, the remaining relatives of the Takarada clan stayed where they were; they, too, apologized to the guests as the latter departed.

A maid, dressed immaculately in a black one-piece dress and a white half-apron lined with frills, approached Fuwa and Kyoko.

"In light of what happened, Miss Maria has been sent to a room for her to rest in," she told him, looking hesitantly at an unresponsive and numb Kyoko. "Unless she is to go home…?"

"No, it's probably for the best that she stays here tonight under the care of her grandfather," Fuwa answered, stealing a worried glance at Kyoko as well. "Tell the kid that her mum isn't feeling well tonight, but she'll be back for her as soon as she gets better."

The maid bowed. "I understand."

The rest of the night seemed to pass like a blur before Kyoko's eyes. She was vaguely aware of Dr. Fuwa tugging her down the corridors of the luxurious manor along with the other elegantly-attired guests of the party, who were whispering covertly to each other and exchanging glances at Kyoko. Fuwa glared at them, and they hastily went silent, which only intensified the tension in the air (though Kyoko was too overcome by the stupor she was in to care). And then they had exited the main doors of the Victorian-themed estate and he was guiding her across the open space parking lot. She wobbled blindly after him on the cobblestone ground through the maze of parked sports cars and posh, refined automobiles until they reached the sleek outline of Fuwa's Jaguar. She didn't have to tell him her address; he knew ages ago, since it was listed under her patient record in his clinic.

The car ride home—which lasted for an hour—was silent, with neither saying a word to the other. She rested her head against the hard, cold surface of the window, feeling too fucked up inside to fall asleep despite her fatigue.

Fuwa parked his Jaguar at the parking lot by her apartment block, and the pair took the elevator up together. When they reached her unit, he fished out Kyoko's keys from her black clutch that he was carrying for her and unlocked the door.

"Thank you for bringing me home," Kyoko said listlessly. Her large brown eyes were dull and her elfin features were set in a disturbingly emotionless mask. "You can go now. I'll see you for our next appointment at the clinic."

"Oh, shut up," Dr. Fuwa muttered. He pushed her lightly into the shadowy, dimmed apartment, then followed her in and closed the door behind them. He felt around the wall for a switch and flicked it on.

Amber light flooded the hallway, illuminating their figures.

She just stood there, wearing that sexy halter dress, staring at him. He could see the reddened marks and the bruising on her neck, and it made him sick to the stomach.

A few wordless seconds ticked by.

Fuwa spoke curtly. "Look. It's not like I want to be here. Don't misunderstand. The thing is—and I'm just going to be frank about it—considering your current state of mind, I'd rather not leave you alone by yourself."

Kyoko continued staring at him.

He strode over to her, and clasped her delicate shoulders. "Listen to me, Kyoko. You are _not_ to blame yourself for this. No one in their right mind is going to blame you. Do you hear me? What you did was considered self-defense. That woman was choking you. She was going to kill you if nobody stopped her. You kicked her so that you could make her let go of you before you fucking suffocated to death. That's it. You didn't know she was pregnant. She didn't even know herself, for Pete's sake! Neither did anyone else, okay?"

Kyoko still said nothing.

"They have nothing to sue you for, nothing," Fuwa said evenly. "That woman wouldn't have lost her baby if she hadn't been trying to fucking strangle someone. Her miscarriage was her retribution for everything that she did."

Kyoko shook her head, her skin waxen and her doe eyes haunted.

"I'm a killer," she murmured lifelessly, and he knew then that she'd barely heard him. "A killer. A killer."

Fuwa inhaled. None of this was what he had signed up for when he offered to go to Lory Takarada's birthday banquet with Kyoko as her plus-one. He'd been looking forward to mingling with the numerous gorgeous women at the venue, but somehow ended up distracted by watching a psychotic freak beat up his date in Lory's study instead. He had to admit it was pretty ingenious of the surgeon named Tsuruga Ren to record Lina's assault and release it in the enormous dining hall where everyone was seated. It might seem drastically callous, but people—and by people he meant the public, not just the rest of the Takaradas—needed to know how crazy that bitch was. She needed to be completely unveiled; that would be the fitting punishment for Lina Takarada. Everything had been entertaining for a while in Fuwa's eyes until, well, it stopped being entertaining. So much for his expectation of having a whale of a time tonight with the smashing wine and the attractive females present; he ended up handling the most tiresome nonsense today at the Takarada Manor.

"Look," he said. "You're obviously exhausted. Go and sleep it off first. We'll talk about this in the morning."

Kyoko was eyeing him with something like dazed wonder now.

"Why?" she asked wearily. "Why are you even here?"

Fuwa stiffened.

She was right. Why was he here? This was completely uncharacteristic of him. He didn't care about his female patients. It was cruel of him, but nevertheless that was the way he operated. The only time he gave a fuck about their health was during his appointments with them at his clinic, and that lasted for a short hour. Once the hour was over, it would be farewell until the next appointment. If he saw them in between appointments, then it was merely for sex. Nothing more, and nothing less. His lovers knew exactly what they were seeing him for. He never discussed about their mental health whenever he saw them privately in his bed outside of his working hours. It was true he had met up with Kyoko outside of their appointments before, and she was the sole exception to his rule since he didn't want to have sex with her but was only seeing her personally because he liked getting a rise out of her. Inviting himself as her date had mainly been to score the other females at the party. However, going so far as to escort her home after a disappointing evening and now comforting her and trying to keep her happy was so unlike himself that he was suddenly appalled by his behavior.

What the fuck was wrong with him? He didn't care about the well-being of his patients. Seeing Kyoko outside of their appointments was for his entertainment, which involved watching her get mad whenever he made fun of her during their shared meals in the past together. In the meantime, seeing his other female patients outside of work was for his sexual entertainment. It was about his gain, not about theirs. But what he was doing now—driving Kyoko home, telling her none of this was her fault, taking care of her—didn't benefit him at all. It was for Kyoko.

No. No. He couldn't be falling for that plain Jane, could he?

How preposterous!

The mere thought chilled his blood instantly. He wouldn't accept it. He wouldn't accept this ludicrousness!

Fuwa Sho did not fall in love. Ever.

"You're right," Fuwa bit savagely at Kyoko, desperate to lash out at her for the confusion and havoc that she had wrecked upon his once perfectly-organized life. "I honestly don't know why I'm still here with you. It's probably all the alcohol I drank. That's really the only thing I got to enjoy at the banquet today, since everything else went to shit. You've ruined enough of everyone's night today."

He regretted his outburst the moment the words left his mouth, for Kyoko's already pale face drained of color in response to him.

Shit. He hadn't meant what he'd said. Not even close. Lina was the one responsible for the hellish night. What the fuck had he been saying? Had he gone momentarily insane?

But Fuwa was too proud. Caught in a turmoil of conflicting emotions, he didn't know how to undo his words or how to amend what he'd unintentionally inflicted on Kyoko. Forget being a psychiatrist—he needed one himself right now.

Feeling like a coward, he turned on his heel and opened the door of the apartment, then stomped out.

Fuwa had just approached the lift lobby when the doors of the elevator slid open, revealing Dr. Tsuruga Ren.

The damned bastard looked as fucking regal as ever in his multi-dollar three-piece suit despite the whirlwind of a nightmare they'd gone through tonight. The sight of him did not help Fuwa's already bitter and stormy mood.

"Ah," Dr. Tsuruga said calmly, catching sight of the other male. "If it isn't Dr. Fuwa."

"What are you doing here?" Fuwa demanded, then caught himself. Why did he care?

He didn't care about Kyoko's relationship with this man. Not one bit.

The corner of Tsuruga Ren's lips curled humorlessly. "I'm here to see Kyoko. Thank you for taking care of her for me, Dr. Fuwa. Or at least that's what I believe I asked of you, but I see that you are leaving."

Fuwa's hackles rose. There were two messages in Tsuruga's statements, and neither sat well with him. The first message was clear: he was very obviously staking a claim on Kyoko—so this doctor did have feelings for her—and was hence 'thanking' Fuwa for watching over what was his. The second message was implying that Fuwa wasn't doing a very good job of it.

Which was true, but the blond didn't want to think about it.

"Yeah, well, I watched over her for me, not for you," Fuwa sneered. "The last time I checked, she isn't yours, Tsuruga Ren."

To his incredulity, the surgeon ignored him. He fluidly brushed past the psychiatrist and pulled open the unlocked door of Kyoko's apartment unit.

Enraged at being ignored like that, Fuwa stalked after him. Dr. Tsuruga strode down the now empty hallway of the apartment and entered the living room. From where both men stood they could see that the sliding glass doors of the balcony were ajar, and long, milky curtains billowed about outside in the windy night air.

Fuwa's heart stopped.

Within the brief span of time since he'd left Kyoko, she had drifted beyond the curtains. She was currently sitting on the cement ledge of the balcony, her legs dangling on the other side. She looked almost serene, her copper curls dancing across her heart-shaped face and her red shawl flickering about her arms.

In fact, she didn't look at all disconcerted that she was sitting perched on the ledge of a balcony ten apartment floors up from the ground.

"Darling," Tsuruga Ren said, very, very gently. He was approaching the woman in deliberately slow but sure-footed steps, his branded leather shoes moving noiselessly past the open sliding doors of the balcony. "What are you doing?"

She gave him a wan smile, not looking taken aback to see the doctor at her home.

"Thinking," she said, "about how tired I am of everything. That's all."

* * *

 _:tbc:_

* * *

 **A/N:** Firstly, I'd like to apologize for the overdose of angst in this chapter, since the previous one ended on such an ironically triumphant note. I was a little apprehensive about writing this chapter because I had already planned the plot twist with Lina, and I knew things were about to get very grim and serious. Secondly, I don't think the ending of this chapter is an overreaction on Kyoko's part—she is diagnosed with clinical depression since the very beginning of the story and knowing that she's caused another woman to miscarry is a huge blow, especially since she is a devoted mother herself.

I also promise that Ren will play the central role in the next chapter. Sorry that Shotaro seemed so prominent for the past few updates; he will play Ren's love rival in time to come, if you haven't already guessed.

By the way, out of curiosity, between 'Amnesia' and 'FotPB', which fic would you like to see an update from first? (I can't promise anything, but it would be interesting to know, thanks!)

To sum it up, thank you so much for all your reviews and kind words. I truly appreciate them more than you can imagine.


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